A Fine Balance
by Joey51
Summary: Bosco tries to maintain a fine balance in his emotional journey to find and save someone close to him, while a guiltridden Ty, assists in any way he can. COMPLETE
1. Default Chapter

Just incase anyone is wondering, I am going to finish The Hours After, but in the mean time, I have been working on this new one.   
  
So, if you like it, please review and let me know. I love reading your comments, they make my day!   
  
Please feel free to e-mail me if you have any questions or comments: jbpunk2003@yahoo.ca  
  
As usual, Sarah deserves a whole lotna credit. I love ya, girl ;)  
  
Thanks so much and enjoy!  
  
~JOEY~  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
-A Fine Balance-   
  
Chapter 1  
  
Bosco carefully traced the pattern of the bourbon on the condensation that had gathered on the outside of the glass. His eyes engaged in deep concentration on the events of the day. So much had happened - so much had gone wrong. He couldn't remember a similar day on the job when there were no breaks in the action. He felt like he had been constantly running from one problem to another, placing a band-aid on each of them - none of the conflicts actually getting resolved.  
  
It got to the point where he was just going through the motions. He blocked out any emotional attachments, sympathy - any feelings that could interrupt the flow of the day. It always works at the time, but as he sat on the stool in the desolate bar, tended by his mother, he faced the consequences of his actions. All of the feelings and emotions he worked so hard to block out came rushing back in fury, each one building on the last until he felt buried by the problems of others.   
  
He closed his eyes and lowered his head slightly while exhaling.   
  
"Maurice, you should go home."  
  
Without opening his eyes, he grabbed the glass of bourbon on the counter and tossed the remaining contents of the drink down his throat.   
  
Once the stinging from the strong fluid resided, he looked up to see his mother glaring back at him while wiping the counter of the bar.  
  
"Is there something you want to talk about?"  
  
"No, Ma. Just a shitty day."  
  
"We all have shitty days, Maurice. Don't take it out on your liver."  
  
He snickered at her hypocritical comment and reached into his back pocket for his wallet.   
  
Tossing a $20 bill on the counter, he nodded his goodbye to his mother and walked out of the bar.  
  
The harsh cold stung Bosco's lungs as he stepped outside. He roughly stuffed his hands into his pockets and tucked his chin into the collar of his jacket.   
  
'It must have dropped 20 degrees in an hour,' he thought to himself as he walked past his beloved car, realizing he was far too intoxicated to drive himself home. On that night, the 10 block walk didn't seem as far as usual.   
  
Every street he passed brought back memories from the day. He stopped as he passed the little park on the north side of the street, recalling the face of the terrified mother when she told him of the ex-pedophile that had tried to kidnap her 7-year-old daughter while she was on the swings after school. Bosco shook his head in disbelief. The man had tried to claim his innocence by stating that she looked cold and that he had just wanted to give her a ride home before she got sick. On any other day, Bosco would have pummeled the man, but at that point in the shift, he had already managed to separate himself from his emotions. Now, he regretted letting the guy go without a few good knocks to his sick head.  
  
Bosco sighed and noticed how clearly he could see his breath in the frigid night air. He kicked the snow off of his boots on the chain-link fence before continuing to walk down the sidewalk.   
  
Stealing a glance at the large clock on the front of the building across the road, he realized it was 1:30 am and far too late to do anything but go home - which is the last place in the world he wanted to be at that moment. It was funny how in a city filled with millions of people, he could walk for five minutes without passing a single soul. The lack of company left him alone with his thoughts, something he tried not to do too often.  
  
Six blocks from his apartment, he sat on a bench outside of a deserted bakery. Staring blindly into the street in front of him, he pictured the accident that had occupied the pavement just a few hours ago. It was one of the worst accidents he had ever been called to. A three car pile-up with one survivor, a four month old child, whose parent's lives had been claimed. Even with all the people that witnessed the horrific scene, not one of them could describe how it had happened. All Bosco could write up was the death of four people and an infant left orphaned.  
  
Bosco looked down and noticed that despite the alcohol in his system, he was shivering violently. He slowly rubbed his hands together in a feeble attempt to generate warmth. A car horn snapped his trance.   
  
He glanced up to see the vehicle slowing down I front of him.  
  
"Bosco, what are you doing, man?" Davis yelled out through the passenger side window.  
  
Bosco stood up and walked over to the idling car. "Nothing, just had a few drinks and didn't want to drive home."  
  
"So, you decided to sit on a bench all night?"  
  
Bosco laughed lightly at Davis' question while leaning on the car with his forearms, "Shut-up, Davis. What are you doing cruising these streets at this hour? Looking for a last minute date?"  
  
"Get in the car, I'll drive you home," Davis replied without responding to Bosco's degrading comment.  
  
After hesitating for a second, Bosco opened the door he was leaning on and lowered himself into the warmth of the heated car.  
  
Neither of them said another word as Ty shifted into drive and continued down the street.  
  
As the car pulled to a halt a red light, Bosco's eyes locked on the building that had been engulfed in flames for the majority of the day. What had previously housed hundreds of people's families and possessions had diminished into a pile of black rubble, littering the New York street. He remembered the tears cried by the young boy who couldn't believe that the firefighters weren't going to the 12th floor to save his dog.   
  
Bosco leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window without removing his eyes from the sad sight.   
  
"You okay, Bos?"  
  
He didn't bother verbally responding to Davis' question, but instead, gave an unconvincing nod of his head.  
  
He could feel Davis' eyes on him, which, if he weren't drunk, would have made him very uncomfortable.  
  
"Green," Bosco mumbled.  
  
"What?" Davis asked, trying to understand the non-specific comment.  
  
Bosco turned his head to face Davis, "The light," he said, gesturing forward with his hand, "it's green."  
  
"Oh, right," Davis answered, obviously flustered.  
  
As Davis stepped on the gas, Bosco turned back to the window. Just as they were entering the intersection, Bosco caught sight of a pick-up truck barreling directly towards them. Before he could yell at Davis to stop or even move to protect himself, he heard the sickening screech of metal on metal.   
  
As the car was propelled through the air, Bosco felt his neck snap to the right and his head smash through the window. The two vehicles' tires squealed in unison and the snapping of plastic and metal gorged the quiet night air.   
  
The truck's front end compressed the passenger's side of the car into the driver's side. Bosco felt his right leg being bend in an awkward position before he was thrown on top of Ty. The pressure of the truck caused Bosco's door to snap in half, the frame dangerously thrusting in, towards the two occupants. Bosco cried out as the metal made contact with the right side of his back, the puncture causing him to gasp in shock.  
  
Finally, the two vehicles slowed to a stop. The only sound was the soft crackle of the broken metal and the gasping from the helpless passengers.  
  
"Bosco," Davis breathlessly whispered to his fallen friend, whose head was pressed up against his knee, below the mangled steering wheel.   
  
Bosco took several more gasping breaths before he even attempted to answer, "Davis…. You alright?"  
  
Ty looked down at his body for a second, doing a brief inventory while wiggling his toes and fingers. "I think so…" He stopped when his gaze fell upon the sharp metal sticking into Bosco's right side.  
  
"Jesus, Bos…" was all he could manage to say.  
  
Bosco was making a half-hearted attempt to move from his awkward position, but immediately stopped, crying out in pain when he felt the shifting of the metal in his side.  
  
"Don't move, Bosco. DON'T move."  
  
"Davis," Bosco gasped.  
  
"Just stay still. Help will come soon to get us out of here."  
  
Davis glanced down and noticed that blood was increasingly saturating his pants. There was no pain in his leg, which had to mean that the blood was coming from Bosco. A panicked feeling settled upon him as he felt Bosco's chest heaving against his arm in an obvious struggle to breathe.  
  
Sirens began to pierce the air - slowly growing louder as help got closer. Davis silently thanked God for the quick dispatch.   
  
"They're coming, Bosco. Hold on."  
  
Bosco coughed several times, moaning in pain afterwards, "Damn, Davis…"  
  
Emergency crews began to bombard the deformed vehicle.   
  
Bosco fought against the pain to stay awake. If there was one thing that people were always saying, it was to stay awake. So, he decided to latch onto that little knowledge that he had in his attempt to survive the crash. Each breath became more of a struggle; sharp pains were shooting through his head, neck and leg. He could feel blood dripping into his eyes but couldn't do anything about it. Minutes seemed like years as he waited for help.  
  
Bosco heard the familiar sound of the jaws ripping open Davis' side of the car. People were yelling out orders that made no sense to him.   
  
His body was beginning to cramp from being stuck in such an awkward position for so long. He gasped as his muscles burned with every contraction. He could feel hands on his shoulders, holding him from falling on his face when Davis, his support, was removed from the car. Even the small movement forward made him gasp. He coughed a few times in an attempt to clear his lungs. Each cough jarred the metal in his side and he moaned in distress.  
  
"Hold on, sir. We're gonna move you outta here now."  
  
Bosco screamed out in pain as the metal bar was pulled out of his side and replaced by the pressure of the paramedic's hands.   
  
"Get the backboard in from the other side and I'll flip him," the medic called out to his partner, who was on the other side of the car.  
  
Davis watched in horror as Bosco moaned when the medics placed him on the backboard. There was so much blood. His face was barely recognizable through all the red liquid that had poured down from the cuts on the top of his head.   
  
"Get a 'c' collar on him. We gotta move him, now!"  
  
The medics ran Bosco over to the ambulance and Ty followed, a shocked look occupying his face.  
  
"You coming with us?" the one medic asked Davis, before shutting the ambulance doors.   
  
"Yeah," Ty replied, shaking his head in an attempt to clear the fog.  
  
The medic offered his hand to help Davis into the vehicle then slammed the doors behind him.  
  
"Step on it, Marco," he called out to the driver of the bus.  
  
As the medic grabbed a handful of four-by-fours to apply pressure to Bosco's puncture wound, he turned to Davis. "Here," he said as he threw a few gauze patches at Ty, "Put these on that cut on your forehead."  
  
Davis subconsciously pressed the gauze against his minor lac, while constantly keeping his eyes on Bosco.  
  
Bosco flinched as the medic applied full pressure to his wound. Every 30 seconds or so, the medic would have to grab more, indicating to Bosco that he was bleeding pretty badly. The last time the paramedic went by, his jacket caught on Bosco's right leg, causing him to scream out in pain.  
  
He stopped dead in his tracks and shifted his glance from Bosco's eyes, to his leg. Tossing the gauze towards Ty, he yelled out, "Put pressure on the wound with these for me, will ya?"  
  
Ty nodded and arranged the gauze before pressing it into Bosco's side. Bosco gasped and Ty shook his head sympathetically, "Sorry, man."  
  
The medic gently rolled up Bosco's pant-leg and shook his head at what he saw. The leg was obviously broken, the swelling over his shin made it as big as his thigh.   
  
"How bad is it?" Davis asked.  
  
"Definitely broken, but we'll have to wait until they do x-rays before I can tell you how bad it is."  
  
Davis nodded and moved to the side as the medic resumed his position next to Bosco.  
  
Bosco started to gasp and cough as his breathing became more labored.   
  
"How far out are we?" the medic directed his question to the driver.  
  
Before he could respond, Bosco's body began to violently convulse and the medic quickly flipped him around on his stomach. Bosco heaved several times, vomiting blood onto the ambulance floor.  
  
"Two minutes!" the driver called back.  
  
When he was convinced Bosco was done, the medic gently rolled him onto his back and mumbled under his breath, "Two minutes isn't fast enough."  
  
TBC. Please review and let me know if you want more ;) 


	2. Chapter 2

Aw, you guys are so sweet! I see some newbies reading my stuff too, which is always nice.   
  
Jenna, you're a sweetheart and I will be accepting donations… nah, j/k of course!   
  
Anyway, here's the second part. I can't thank you guys enough for you kind words and encouragement, it sparks my urge to write.   
  
Another note, though it may not seem like it after reading this chapter, this story IS going somewhere! Those of you that have read my other fic, have probably realized that I get a little caught up in the descriptive stuff. It's a bad habit that I just can't seem to break. Let me know if it gets too frustrating and I'll do my best to fix it.   
  
Thanks again,  
  
~JOEY~  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
-A Fine Balance-  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Bosco felt as if an elephant was sitting on his chest. Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult and every strained attempt sent violent shooting pains through his right side that reverberated through his skull.   
  
He could hear himself moaning, which scared him because it was completely involuntary. He hated being so out of control of his own actions. He rotated from keeping his eyes open, trying to keep tabs on the situation, to squeezing them shut when the pain grew to unbearable levels.   
  
He caught sight of Davis' worry-stricken face. 'It must be bad,' he thought to himself as another excruciating wave of pain shot through his chest, forcing his eyes closed yet again.  
  
**************  
  
Davis couldn't tear his stare away from Bosco's heaving chest. The sight alone made him nauseous, not to mention the sound of anguish filled gasps - the whole package made his mind spin and his legs unsteady. How could he have not seen that massive truck coming? The guilt tore him apart, despite the fact that he was at no fault for the accident - his light had been green.  
  
He felt a drop of warm fluid fall onto his arm and quickly replaced the gauze over the slow bleeding cut on his forehead.  
  
Damn, Bosco. You gotta hold on, man. Just a few more minutes now.  
  
**************  
  
The back doors flung open as the ambulance screeched to a halt in the emergency bay. Doctors and nurses flooded the vehicle before the stretcher hit the pavement.  
  
Bosco winced as the pressure applied to his chest fluctuated while he was being transferred from the ambulance to the ER. The yelling of medical concepts and procedures overpowered the deafening roar of the blood rushing through his ears.   
  
He felt as if someone was holding his head underwater. Doctors and nurses swarmed his vision and ignored his distress. He coughed a few times to try and gain an airway, but to no avail. His vision became spotty from the lack of oxygen, and the last thing he saw before he passed out was the bright red of his blood stained shirt being cut off of his quivering body.  
  
**************  
  
Davis aimlessly wandered to the window separating the trauma room from the ER. He could see Bosco's apparent struggle to breathe, and his cries pierced his ears, making him feel sick to his stomach.   
  
"Officer Davis?" Nurse Proctor tapped Ty on the shoulder, "Why don't you let me suture that cut for you?"  
  
"Is he," he pointed towards Bosco, who appeared to be unconscious. "Is he gonna be okay?"  
  
"They're working very hard on him. He has a punctured lung and that's why he's having difficulty breathing. They should be able to fix him up. Bosco's as strong willed as they come. Now, come with me, so I can fix YOU up."  
  
Ty nodded, and after stealing one last look at Bosco's helpless body, followed the friendly nurse down the crowded halls of the ER.  
  
***********  
  
Bosco stirred slightly, coming out of the anesthetic from the surgery to repair his wounded lung. He tried to lick his lips, but his mouth was too dry to perform the simple task. His eyelids slowly separated and he blinked a few times to focus on his surroundings.   
  
"Officer Boscorelli," an elderly doctor said as he saw Bosco's eyes flutter open. "Glad you could join us."   
  
Bosco cleared his throat and squinted to get a better view of the doctor. He felt tightness across his forehead and quickly realized that it was bound by thick layers of bandages.  
  
Before he could ask the doctor any questions, a nurse approached him with a cup of water and adjusted his pillow while Bosco gingerly sucked the liquid through the straw.  
  
Bosco tilted his head back as the nurse put the cup on the table by his bedside. He wracked his brain to recall what had placed him in the hospital. He closed his eyes and saw a truck streaming towards him. His eyes shot open and he gasped slightly as he remembered the horrible event that had transpired.  
  
"Davis…" Bosco's rough voice was close to a whisper.  
  
"Officer Davis is just fine. In fact, he's waiting outside - quite impatiently, I might add. I'll let him and the others know you're awake," the doctor smiled at Bosco and then left the room to calm Davis with the news of Bosco's awakening.  
  
Bosco took a shallow breath and winced slightly at the discomfort in his right side. He looked down at his aching body, to try and get a better idea of what injuries he had sustained.  
  
He saw that his leg was in traction, raised slightly off the bed. He mentally cursed, already dreading the physical therapy that undoubtedly loomed in his future. Other than the leg, his sore chest, and his head, he was pretty impressed with his condition. He thought for sure he was dead when he was crushed under that truck.   
  
He resumed his attention to the pain in his chest. Every shallow breath he took sent a shooting pain through his back. Maybe, he thought, if he was upright, it wouldn't be such a struggle. He slipped his hand to the side of his bed, searching for the control.  
  
"Is there something I can help you with, officer?" a nurse asked, noting the frustration in Bosco's face when he couldn't locate what he was looking for.  
  
"I just," he coughed a little and cleared his throat, the dryness still yet to have subsided. "I was just trying to raise the bed a little."  
  
She nodded sympathetically and grabbed the control that was lying on the other side.   
  
'Figures,' Bosco thought to himself.  
  
She raised his bed until he was sitting fairly upright and raised her eyebrows, to ask if he was satisfied with her work.  
  
He nodded, "That's great, thanks."  
  
She smiled as she picked up some papers and continued on her rounds.  
  
"Bosco."  
  
Bosco was too busy testing out his breathing in his new position to see that Faith, Davis, and Sully had wandered into his room.  
  
"Hey," he gave a small smile to his company. More to wipe that worried look off of Faith's face than to parlay any happiness he was feeling. She could be so overprotective.  
  
"How you feeling?" Davis asked, the guilt apparent in his voice.  
  
"Well," Bosco whispered before clearing his throat again, "I've had better days…"  
  
"Bosco, man, I just didn't see…"  
  
"I know, Davis," Bosco interrupted him before he could ramble on with his apology. "He ran a red. It wasn't your fault."  
  
"The guy," Bosco asked shifting his glance to the floor, "Did he…"  
  
Davis shook his head, "No, he's miraculously going to make it. He's in pretty rough shape though," Ty stopped momentarily, prioritizing his thoughts, "He's just a kid, like 20 or something, but he wasn't drunk. They can't really explain why he ran the red. They found a lot of alcohol and cash in the vehicle, but nothing showed in his blood. They're gonna hold him for sure until they can question him further,"   
  
Ty stopped, giving Bosco a small smile, "I'm just glad you're okay. You scared the shit out of me, man."  
  
Bosco chuckled slightly, but quickly regretted it as pain ripped through his chest. He winced at the unexpected jolt, hands clenching in fists.  
  
"Easy, Bos," Faith soothed, cringing at the sight of her partner in obvious pain. "Do you want me to get a doctor?"  
  
Bosco shook his head without opening his eyes. "No," he took a shaky breath before finishing his sentence, "it's okay. I'm okay."  
  
When he was satisfied that the pain has subsided enough to resume his conversation, he opened his eyes and directed his question to Faith, "How bad's the leg?"  
  
"You fractured your tibia and tore out your ACL and MCL. If everything goes according to plan, they said they'd have to send you back into surgery tomorrow to fix the knee."  
  
Bosco rolled his eyes in exasperation. 'Great,' he thought, 'That rehab's gonna be a bitch.'   
  
"We can't get a hold of your mom, Bosco. We left her a few messages on her machine but we haven't heard anything from her yet," Sully stated with concern.  
  
Bosco wasn't surprised. His mom was rarely home. Especially at night, which he discovered it was again, after looking at the digital clock affixed to the wall. She was probably back at the bar, oblivious to her son's condition.  
  
Bosco nodded to Sully and took another shaky breath. He was starting to feel a little bit too uncomfortable. He tried shifting a little to see if it would decrease the ache, but it just resulted in a burning pain through his ribs. He gasped slightly and started to feel a little nauseous. That worried him more than anything. The last thing he wanted to do was throw-up in front of Sully and Davis… he would never hear the end of it, he was sure.   
  
"We'll leave you alone. Get better, Bosco," Sully said, sensing the anxiousness in Bosco's body language.  
  
Ty stole one last glance at his injured friend for peace of mind, just to ensure that his was indeed alive, before strolling out of the room behind Sully.  
  
Faith remained in the room and inched closer to Bosco's bedside.  
  
"You want me to get a doctor now?" she asked him softly, once Sully and Davis were out of earshot.  
  
Bosco nodded quickly and exhaled, keeping his eyes closed.  
  
He could feel sweat forming on his forehead as he fought the impending nausea that was soaring through his body in vicious waves.  
  
Faith stepped towards the door and discretely flagged down Bosco's doctor.  
  
The old doctor approached Bosco with a concerned look on his face.  
  
"You feeling uncomfortable, officer?"  
  
Bosco wanted to scream at the doctor. 'No,' he thought to himself, 'I always sweat like this!' Instead, he muttered, "Yeah, don't feel so hot."  
  
"Okay," replied the doctor, as he lowered Bosco's bed back into a prone position, "I'll give you something for the pain."  
  
Bosco could feel his muscles tensing, fighting the sickening feeling coursing through him. His respiration rate had increased, but each breath remained shallow and unsteady.   
  
Faith could tell how much Bosco hated being unstable. He had that look on his face like he was disgusted with himself. She mentally smiled at his determination to be as macho as possible in front of his friends and colleagues. 'Such a Bosco thing to do,' she thought to herself.   
  
He moaned and swallowed as he fought his stomach's urge to turn. He opened his eyes to see Faith staring back at him, then immediately shifted his gaze elsewhere.  
  
Faith caught his nervous glance and realized she had to leave. She didn't really understand why Bosco was so uncomfortable showing weakness around her, but she respected his internal wishes and turned to exit the room.  
  
As she was exiting, she heard him groan as he succumbed to the nausea. She didn't turn around to embarrass him, but continued to walk out, pretending as if she hadn't heard a thing. 'No use making him more uncomfortable than he already is,' she thought.  
  
Bosco mentally thanked God that Faith didn't witness him spilling his guts into a bucket. His relief increased when he felt the painkillers begin to latch onto his cells. The relaxation that followed superceded anything he had ever felt before. He sighed in relief and allowed himself to drift off into the darkness.   
  
TBC. Please review and let me know your thoughts on this one. I would really appreciate it. Thanks! 


	3. Chapter 3

This chapter is fairly self-explanatory… For some reason, it's taking me quite a while to get into the main plot, but it will all make sense eventually, I promise! Thanks for the kind words on the previous chapters, you guys are incredible and it makes me so happy to read that I'm not the only person enjoying this fic.  
  
Here's Chapter 3, enjoy!  
  
~JOEY~  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
-A Fine Balance-  
  
Chapter 3  
  
"It's going to be very tender for a while to come. What we'll do is wrap it up and ice it every hour or so to try to keep the swelling down. Unfortunately, we can't have you doing many exercises to help strengthen it because of your broken leg, but we'll find ways to work around that."  
  
Bosco wasn't really listening to the Doctor explaining the recovery process for his knee, which had just endured 3 hours of reconstructive surgery. He was thinking about how the hell he was going to get around on crutches. He hated the things. 'They make people look clumsy,' he thought to himself.  
  
"So what do you think?"  
  
"Huh?" Bosco asked, having no idea what the Doctor was asking his opinion on.  
  
"Do you think you'd want to do intensive therapy to try to increase your speed of recovery?" the Doctor repeated, agitated by the lack of attention his patient was paying him.  
  
"Um… yeah, sure, whatever."  
  
Bosco was getting frustrated with these Doctors. They treated him like a five-year-old. He didn't want to be in this hospital anymore than they wanted to treat him.  
  
"When do you think I'll be sprung from here?" he asked bluntly.  
  
The Doctor shrugged, "I don't know, I'm just the physical therapy guy. You'll have to ask your Doctor. Look, I'll leave instructions with your Doctor and if you're 'sprung' from here, he can tell you where and when you're required to come back for your therapy." With that, he turned and left the room.   
  
Bosco snickered at how flustered the physio-guy had gotten. 'Doesn't take much to rattle these people,' he thought to himself.  
  
Another Doctor approached him just as quickly as the other one left.   
  
"Hey, Doc, can I get out of here soon?"  
  
The Doctor didn't seem as thrown as the previous one, and placed down the chart before responding,   
  
"How do you feel?"  
  
"Like I was hit by a truck. Doesn't mean I wanna stay here," he replied.  
  
The Doctor smiled and shook his head, "Well, Officer Boscorelli, I would like to keep you here for at least one more day for observation, but I can't stop you from leaving. Do you have someone that can take you home?"  
  
Bosco thought for a second. He still hadn't heard from his mother. He knew that she hated seeing him in the hospital, but he had almost died, the least she could do was stop by and make sure he was okay. He'd have to call Faith - she'd take him home.  
  
"Yeah, I got a ride. How's that kid, by the way - the one who hit me?"  
  
"Last I heard he was conscious, kept asking for his Dad - seemed pretty upset. I don't think the police we able to ask him any questions, but you'd be better off asking them than me," he stopped and adjusted his glasses while laying a cynical eye on Bosco, "I'll get your home-care instructions and set up a few appointments for your leg, and then I'll see what I can do about getting you released."  
  
Bosco sighed, thankful that for once, he wasn't being fought on the issue, "Can I use the phone?"  
  
The Doctor nodded and handed him the phone off the wall by the door.   
  
Bosco quickly dialed Faith's number and waited for an answer.  
  
After a brief conversation that included a lot of, 'are you sure, Bosco?', he convinced Faith to pick him up.   
  
"Sign here and I'll go get your clothes."  
  
Bosco complied. He couldn't wait to get home.  
  
**************  
  
"Hey there. Looks like you're all set," Faith said as she entered Bosco's room, seeing that he was fully clothed and waiting.  
  
"I can't get out of here fast enough," he threw back with a grin.   
  
Faith saw how his pants were bunched up above the lengthy cast. He looked sore as he tried to maneuver his body to the edge of the bed and reach for his crutches. She couldn't help but think that he was rushing this whole recovery process, but realized that it was a lost cause trying to argue the case with him.  
  
She saw him wince noticeably when he placed a crutch under his right arm.  
  
"Here," she said, placing a hand on his elbow to help lower him off the bed, "let me help you."  
  
For a second, Bosco was unsure whether or not he could handle using the crutches. Just holding it under his arm caused pain to radiate through his right side, which was far from healed. He paused for a second, wondering how bad it would be when he actually put weight on it.   
  
"We can get a wheel-chair, Bosco. It would probably be easier…"  
  
"No," he interrupted, in a near whisper, obviously in pain, "I can do this."  
  
He tried to put on a brave face to convince Faith, but knew that she could see right through him. 'Doesn't hurt to try,' he thought to himself.  
  
"Can you grab that bag?" he asked, motioning towards a large white paper bag sitting on his bed.  
  
"What is that?" she asked.  
  
"Drugs," he replied sheepishly.  
  
"God, Bosco, think you've got enough?" she teased, when she picked it up, shocked by the weight of the contents.  
  
He smirked at her, and proceeded to try to stand.   
  
She stood close by in case he overestimated his strength - something that wouldn't surprise her.  
  
"You okay?" she asked before leading the way out of the room.  
  
"After you," he said, nodding his head towards the door.  
  
Faith shrugged and slowly made her way out of the room, followed by an even slower Bosco.  
  
She threw a glance over her shoulder to see that he was further behind than she had though. Knowing that making any comment would embarrass him or cause him to push himself too hard, she responded by slowing her pace to a near crawl.  
  
Bosco had underestimated the pain associated with moving, and found himself struggling after only a few steps. Not wanting to make a scene, he did his best to block out the shooting pains through his chest and leg while continuing to follow Faith towards the elevator. He mentally thanked God when he saw her slow down - he just couldn't keep up otherwise.  
  
Finally, they made their way into the elevator. Bosco took the opportunity to remove the crutch form under his right arm and lean against the walls for support. He prayed for the ride to be as long as physically possible.  
  
Faith noticed Bosco looked a little flushed and wondered if she should demand he be 'wheeled' out to the truck. She wasn't sure he would make it otherwise. She then thought about the stairs to his apartment.   
  
"Bosco, Bosco, Bosco…. What were you thinking?" she thought to herself.  
  
The journey to the truck took much longer than anticipated. They had to stop several times so that Bosco could 'readjust his crutches'. Faith knew he was lying. There was no readjusting going on. He just stood there with his head down, catching his breath.   
  
She helped him into the truck and started driving to his apartment. She noticed he kept his eyes closed the whole time, and wondered if he was sleeping. When she pulled into a parking spot in front of his building, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder to wake him up, "Bosco," she said, shaking him slowly, "you're home."  
  
Bosco woke to Faith's voice alerting him of their arrival. He blinked a few times and nodded to her, signaling that he indeed was awake. He grabbed the crutches with his left hand and tried to strategize about which way of exiting the truck would be the easiest.   
  
"Hold on, I'll open the door and help you out," Faith said, as if reading his mind.  
  
She made her way over to the passenger side and undid his seatbelt. "Here," she said, reaching for his crutches, "Give these to me and then I'll help you down."  
  
He didn't argue, allowing her to grab the awkward metal poles from his hands.  
  
Bosco shuffled forward and began to lower himself to the ground. The truck was a lot further up than he thought and he was unable to land solely on his left leg. His cast hit the sidewalk, bearing part of the weight from his jump down.  
  
He gasped as excruciating pain shot through his leg repetitively, causing him to double over in agony.   
  
"Jesus, Bosco, take it easy. You okay?"  
  
He didn't respond for a couple seconds, simply because he couldn't. The pain had taken his breath away, leaving his eyes watering and his stomach turning. After recovering from the shock enough to speak, he whispered, "Yeah… I'm fine. Let's go in."  
  
Faith shook her head as she watched him wipe the water from his eyes and gingerly place the crutches under his arms.  
  
The journey to Bosco's apartment was just that - a 'journey'. It must have taken them 15 minutes to climb the stairs and Faith found herself looking at her watch continually when Bosco wasn't watching. After what seemed like an eternity, they had reached his apartment. Faith confiscated his keys from him and took the liberty of opening the door, so he didn't have to 'readjust'.  
  
Bosco made his way over to his couch, and very slowly and carefully, lowered himself down. He could feel sweat covering every inch of his body. He hadn't imagined it would be so difficult to climb the stairs.   
  
Several times he had been tempted to ask Faith for help, but being the stubborn ass that he is, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Now, all he wanted was painkillers. Every breath sent pain vibrating through his chest and back, and his leg and knee had taken on a constant and relentless throbbing.  
  
Faith went over to the kitchen and placed the large 'drug bag' on the counter.   
  
"Bosco." she called out towards the living room.  
  
"Mmmm…" was his only reply.  
  
"Do you want these pills now?" she asked, opening the bag, fairly sure the answer would be yes.  
  
"Yeah," he mumbled, "please."  
  
Faith carefully dumped the contents of the bag onto the kitchen counter. Four separate bottles and several different pamphlets and papers fell out. 'Jesus,' she thought to herself, 'he's pretty much set for life'.  
  
She glanced at the labels, trying to determine which ones he should take. There were two different anti-inflammatories, one bottle of anti-biotics, and then she came across what she was looking for - Demerol.   
  
She read the instructions before extricating the proper dosage. Grabbing a glass of water, she walked out to the living room with the drugs.   
  
"Here," she said, handing him the pills, followed by the glass of water. Bosco eagerly accepted them, then handed Faith what remained of the water. "Thanks," he sighed, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, waiting desperately for the pills to kick in.  
  
"There's a lot of literature here that you should read, Bosco," she said while heading back to the kitchen to dump the water into the sink. "And there's very detailed instructions on what you should and shouldn't do for your leg. It says here that you have your first appointment the day after tomorrow in the morning. Do you want me to take you?"  
  
"Yeah," he said, without opening his eyes, "that would be great."  
  
"Faith?" he asked after a few seconds.  
  
"Yeah?" she answered, making her way back into the living room.  
  
He cracked his eyes open and swallowed, "Have you heard from my ma?"  
  
Faith thought about it for a second. She hadn't seen Rose since before the accident. She knew that someone had tried to contact her, but wasn't sure whether or not they had been successful.  
  
"You haven't seen her since the accident?" she asked Bosco, pretty sure she already knew the answer.  
  
He shook his head 'no', and pointed towards the machine behind him, "Can you see if she left any messages?" he asked, increasing weariness becoming evident in his voice.  
  
Faith made her way over to the machine and noticed there were no messages. She sighed and said, "No,   
  
Bos, she didn't call. I'll try her again later. I'm sure she just didn't get the message. How about for now we get you to your bed before you pass out on the couch and I have to carry you?"  
  
Bosco nodded and dragged his body and the crutches into position.   
  
Faith noticed the pained look on his face that seemed to get worse with every step. She hoped that once the Demerol was given a chance to work, he would feel a lot better.  
  
"Wait," Faith said before he attempted to lie down. "Let me help you take your jacket off."  
  
Bosco allowed Faith to try to remove his jacket. He involuntarily winced and let out a small moan when she accidentally rubbed her hand against the wound on his side.   
  
"Sorry," she whispered. He nodded his forgiveness and slumped onto the bed.  
  
She helped him arrange himself, then adjusted the pillows and blankets. When she was satisfied that he looked comfortable enough, she made her way to the kitchen to try to figure out which drugs he should take and when. She organized his next four pill dosages and refilled the glass with water. Grabbing a bag of ice, the pills and the water, she headed back into the bedroom.   
  
"Bosco," she said, making sure that he was still awake.  
  
"Hmmm…" he moaned in reply.  
  
"I have your next four pill dosages that you have to take. This should hold you over until tomorrow morning. The ones closest to you are the ones that you take first… Are you listening to me?"  
  
He opened his eyes a little and looked towards the rows of pills, "Yeah," he said, then jumped slightly when Faith placed the ice-pack on his injured knee.  
  
"In three hours you take these," she said pointing to the first row that contained four pills. "Three hours after that you take these…" She continued the spiel until she was sure Bosco understood her.  
  
"Now, something tells me you're not going to be awake for much longer, so I'm going to set your alarm for three hours. It's up to you to set it again after that if you think you're gong to fall asleep again. I'll put your phone right on your night table so you can call me if you need anything." she took a deep breath and looked around to make sure she hadn't missed anything. "Okay?" she asked him.  
  
He nodded and smiled weakly at her, "Yeah. Thanks, Faith."  
  
She grinned at her partner, and nodded. She tried to suppress the concern of leaving him alone in his condition, but justified it by thinking, 'It's Bosco, he's used to being alone and fending for himself.'  
  
"Okay then, I gotta get home to the kids, but I'll be back tomorrow morning to check on you. If you need anything, Bosco," she said, with a serious expression on her face, "you call me. Okay?"  
  
He closed his eyes and nodded.   
  
Faith made sure the door was locked when she left the apartment and sighed before turning and walking down the hall towards the stairs. 'All this because some kid wasn't paying attention,' Faith thought to herself as she walked away from her fallen partner.  
  
Bosco heard the door shut. He silently wished Faith had stayed with him. He wasn't sure he could do simple things, like go to the washroom without help. Usually, his mother would be there with him. Before he slipped off into a drug-induced sleep, he wondered where the hell she was.  
  
TBC. Good things come to those who review ;) 


	4. Chapter 4

I left a more detailed note at the end of this one. Thanks for reading and reviewing ;)  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
-A Fine Balance-  
  
  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Bosco jumped when he heard the deafening wail of his alarm clock pierce through the stillness of his sleep.   
  
'Damn, Faith,' he though to himself. 'Did ya have to put it on buzzer? Music would have done just fine.'  
  
Slamming his fist aimlessly around on the night table, he finally managed to make the outrageously loud noise stop. Bosco groaned, it felt like he had only been asleep for a few minutes, and he had absolutely no desire to open his eyes. Realizing that Faith would have his head if he managed to screw up this whole pill system she had spent so much time preparing, he decided to do his best to make use of her work. He again reached over to the night table and fumbled with the lamp until bright light filled the previously dark room.   
  
He took a second to allow his eyes to adjust, wiping a them sleepily with his one hand, while trying to prop himself up with his other.   
  
Bosco saw the four rows of pills lined up neatly on the table before him. He stared at them for several seconds, thinking it probably wouldn't be wise to take them on an empty stomach. Deep in thought, he shifted his glance out the door towards the kitchen, as if willing the food to come to him. No such luck…  
  
'Fantastic,' he thought to himself, tossing the bag of melted ice to the side and beginning to shuffle over to the edge of the bed so he could reach his crutches.   
  
The journey to the kitchen was a challenge to say the least. Bosco found himself struggling more than he was earlier in the day. There's just something about those intravenous drugs that makes them work better than pills. He chalked it up to just being tired, but couldn't help but feel the wave of uneasiness at being so exposed and vulnerable. He found his mind wandering into visions of collapsing and not being able to get up - being left for weeks without food, water, or any form of rescue…  
  
Bosco shook his head and felt a small smile forming on his lips. 'At least there's nothing wrong with my imagination,' he thought while propping himself against the counter before opening the fridge. He knew full well before he opening it, that a sea of nothingness would stare back at him. He certainly wasn't about to eat condiments to line his stomach. Despite the fact that there was nothing, and no hope of anything appearing in the near future, Bosco continued to stare blankly into the icy cell. When he was truly convinced that nothing was going to magically appear before his tired eyes, he admitted defeat and allowed the door to drift shut.   
  
Without reassuming his position on his crutches, he placed both hands on the counter and slowly hopped forward towards the row of overhead cupboards across the bay area of the kitchen. The six or seven foot hop left him breathless, and he made a mental note that contrary to popular belief, hopping is NOT easier than manipulating crutches.   
  
Once Bosco had caught his breath, he strategically leaned his left hip against the edge of the counter and reached above with his left hand, grasping the cupboard knob and whipping the door open.   
  
He couldn't believe how stiff even his left side was. It was if his whole back had gone into some sort of reservation mode, shutting down all muscles for repair until further notice.  
  
Bosco prepped himself again, and successfully managed to swing his arm high enough to grab the box of crackers that he knew was lying near the edge. Though he wasn't hungry, he recognized that taking the ridiculous amount of drugs he'd been prescribed, without food, would only lead to a mess later on. For a second, he was concerned at how he had become so knowledgeable on the side effects and procedures associated with prescription drugs. He decided that it was because he was far too injury prone… or stupidity prone, therefore leading to injuries. Whatever the case may be, he vowed to make a solemn effort to be more careful in the future. 'Riiiight,' he thought to himself, 'that'll last long.'  
  
Before he endured the 'hopping' that would have to take place before he could reach his crutches again, he grabbed a handful of crackers and tossed the box into the sink, deciding that he'd put it away in the morning, when he felt more awake, and hopefully, more flexible.  
  
Bosco's jaw, still sore and swollen from smashing through the window in the accident, wouldn't allow him to chew faster than a typical 90 year old man. He found himself grimacing, not necessarily because of the pain inflicted by the process, but because he found the whole procedure torturously slow - especially when all he wanted to do was crawl back into bed and sleep for the next three days.  
  
He made his way back into the bedroom and tossed his crutches onto the floor. Grabbing the four pills from the front line, he popped them into his mouth and immediately chased them with the room-temperature water.   
  
He slammed the half-empty glass onto the night table and then stared at the alarm clock. He really didn't feel that horrible, and if he wasn't so rudely awoken by an alarm that sounded similar to some form of demented buzzard, he probably wouldn't have been in any pain because he'd still be asleep. After he felt he had justified the motives for his plan, Bosco decided not to reset the alarm clock. Maybe, if he was lucky and God was on his side, he could sleep through the night, and wake up in time to dispose of the remaining pills before Faith arrived. He realized it was wishful thinking, and either way, he'd probably get an ass-kicking, or at least a lecture from Faith, but he felt the reward was worth the consequences.  
  
Bosco sighed, and pressed his hand against the bandage on his temple to affix it more securely before lying back and closing his eyes. Feeling the drugs, the warm bed and the seeing the soft glow from the light beside him made for a quick departure into the comfort of sleep.  
  
***********************  
  
The phone rang several times before Bosco became conscious of the noise. He rolled over and grabbed it off the night table, but the machine had already kicked in. He threw the now silent object down on the bed and listened half-heartedly to see if he could determine who was calling him at 7 am. No one appeared to be talking, so Bosco shrugged it off while pulling the covers back over his head.  
  
**********************  
  
Faith arrived at Bosco's apartment around 9 in the morning. She knocked a couple times lightly before resigning to using her key, realizing that he was probably still asleep.  
  
She kicked the door closed behind her and immediately bee-lined to the kitchen to put away the groceries she had purchased for him. She frowned noticing the box of crackers in the sink. 'What the hell was he doing last night?' she thought to herself as she placed the box back in the cupboard.   
  
Faith quietly stepped towards Bosco's bedroom and peeked her head inside the door. She couldn't see him, just a lump under several layers of blankets. She tiptoed closer and shook her head in frustration when she saw that he had only taken one out of the four lines of pills she'd set out for him.   
  
She sighed, deciding she would give him hell when he woke up, and wandered out into the living room to watch TV while she waited.   
  
Faith slumped on the couch and unenthusiastically flipped through the channels. After about her third time through all the stations, she heard a rustling noise emerge from the bedroom. She quietly walked down the hall, only to see that Bosco had changed positions but still appeared to be deep in sleep. She laughed at herself, realizing that she hadn't been so attentive over anyone's sleeping habits since Emily and Charlie were babies - but then again, people had always said that she was Bosco's 'mother', and for the first time, she believed the title held true.   
  
'SHIT!' she thought to herself, as it donned on her that she hadn't called Rose as she had promised Bosco she would last night. She pulled out her cell, not wanting to search Bosco's room for the phone which she had noticed was no longer on the night table where she'd placed it the night before, and dialed Rose's number.   
  
The phone rang endlessly and there didn't appear to be any answering machine. Defeated, Faith hung up and deliberately dropped the phone on the cushion next to her. She felt a small wave of panic sweep through her chest and slowly reached down to retrieve the phone. Though she was sure she was overreacting, she phoned the house and was greeted by a young officer working the front desk. She asked for Swersky, comfortable that he knew the situation, and would be understanding if she was indeed acting irrationally.   
  
"Yokas!" he greeted her, surprised to hear from her at such an early hour.  
  
"Hey Lieu," she started. "I'm not quite sure how to say this, but I need you to check something out for me."  
  
Swersky was instantly concerned by Faith's tone, and lowered his voice when he replied, "What is it? Is everything okay?"  
  
"Well, I'm sure it is, but I just don't' want to take any chances. Did anyone at the house manage to get into contact with Bosco's mother after the accident?" she asked directly.  
  
"As far as I was told, they couldn't reach her. Why?"  
  
"Bosco's a little worried, and I guess so am I, for that matter, that he hasn't heard from her at all since the whole ordeal. Do you think you could have someone go check in on her?"  
  
"Really? You haven't heard from her at all?"  
  
"No," Faith answered, clearly troubled.  
  
"Yeah, okay Yokas, I'll send someone over to check up on her. You don't suppose she's just out of town or on vacation, do you?"   
  
"I guess it's a possibility," Faith answered before quickly shaking her head and dismissing the idea, "No, Bosco was at her bar the night of the accident, she would've said something to him if she was going away, and I doubt that she would have left within a few hours of seeing him last… It just doesn't make sense, Lieu."  
  
"I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation, Faith, but just to be on the safe side, I'll send someone over to check it out."  
  
"Thanks, Lieu, I really appreciate it."  
  
"No problem. How's Bosco doing?"  
  
"I don't' know, I've only been here for 15 minutes and he's been asleep the whole time."  
  
"Okay, well when I hear something, I'll give you a call to let you know. Are you coming in today?"  
  
"Yeah, Lieu, I'll be there."  
  
"Okay, Yokas, I'll see you later then."  
  
Faith hung up the phone and jumped a foot in the air when she heard a voice behind her.  
  
"You talking to Swersky?"  
  
She turned around to see a weary looking Bosco, still clothed from then night before, hanging like a rag doll off of the imposing crutches. She had been so deep in the conversation with the lieutenant that she hadn't heard him approach.  
  
"Yeah, just seeing if he needed me in today," she lied, not wanting to worry her pale partner with the details of the conversation.  
  
"How you feeling?" Faith asked, seeing that he looked horrible, but knowing he would lie right back at her, saying he felt fine.  
  
"Fine." he answered quietly.  
  
She grinned, mentally laughing at how well she knew her partner.  
  
"You know, Bos," she said in a reprimanding tone, "I gave you one simple task when I left last night and you didn't do it."  
  
He laughed and looked a the ground, "You saw that, did ya? I hid the rest of the pills when I woke up, hoping you hadn't seen them."  
  
Faith shook her finger at him and smiled conspicuously, but didn't scold him any further.  
  
Bosco struggled to move over to the chair opposite the couch, but was having a significantly hard time in doing so.   
  
Faith saw the pained look on his face and got up from the couch, silently offering him her seat. He didn't argue, and took advantage of the closer resting spot, slowly lowering his stiff body into the cushions.  
  
"What were you doing with crackers last night?" she asked out of curiosity.  
  
"Well," he winced while adjusting his leg in front of him before continuing, "I didn't think that it would be very smart to take such a large amount of potent drugs on an empty stomach."  
  
Faith mentally cursed herself for not thinking of that the night before. If he hadn't thought of it, he could easily have his head in the toilet right now.  
  
"Right," she answered, not letting him in on her thoughts.  
  
Her phone broke the silence, ringing out a classical tune. Bosco grabbed it off the seat beside him and tossed it at her. Faith methodically caught it with one hand and flipped it open while placing it to her ear.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
Bosco watched the expression on her face change into one of extreme concern.  
  
"Okay, thanks Lieu, we'll be right there."  
  
Bosco shot her a questioning glare, dreading hearing the news that made her so anxious.  
  
Faith looked towards him with a touch of empathy.  
  
"What?" he asked, panic overwriting the pain he thought he would never be able to ignore only a few seconds ago.  
  
"We gotta go, Bos."  
  
TBC. I'm sorry for all of you that were waiting for Ty to make an appearance in this one. I have plans for him in the next chapter. I just got a little caught up in this scene. Input Is greatly appreciated, be it through reviews or e-mails, it's your call. Let me know where YOU want me to take this. I write for you as well as myself. Thanks so much, guys! ~Joey~ 


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for the support I have received, I'm hoping that the following on this one will increase with time. If you're reading, and you happen to like it, please tell me, otherwise I just think you don't ;)   
  
Thanks Sarah, you rock.  
  
Take Care, guys!  
  
~Joey~  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
-A Fine Balance-  
  
Chapter 5  
  
"You just had to pick the most freezing day to sign up for a double, didn't you?" Davis interrogated his partner, as if he had control over the weather.  
  
"Just be thankful you aren't on foot patrol. Last I checked, this RMP is kept at a pretty comfortable temperature," Sully replied, annoyed at Davis' third comment of the day about the climate.  
  
"You say that now, but I'm the one that has to run after skells while you sit in your little climate controlled au-to-mo-bile" Davis mocked, adding rhythm to try to lighten the mood. Truth was, he was sick to death of the cold, and wished he had never agreed to work the extra hours in the first place.  
  
"55-Charlie, please call in to the house" the radio crackled while delivering the request to the two officers.  
  
"55-Charlie, 10-4"  
  
"I wonder what that's all about," Ty speculated.   
  
Sully just shrugged in reply, "I don't know, and I can't say I'm too anxious to find out."  
  
Davis had already finished dialing, and waited for what seemed like an eternity for an answer from the precinct house. He was immediately connected with Swersky, who ran the sensitive situation of their fellow Officer's missing family member, by the young cop.  
  
"Sure, Lieu, we'll take care of it."  
  
"Well?" Sully asked, relieved that they hadn't been called into the house - that always meant someone had died, or was soon to be dead.  
  
"It's Bosco's Mom, they couldn't get a hold of her and Lieu wants us to go check on her, make sure she's ok."  
  
"Hmm," Sully stated simply, while raising his eyebrows, "I saw what kind of mood Bosco was in at the hospital, I can't say I blame her for staying as far away as possible."  
  
Ty just shook his head while sighing, "I don't know, man. I just hope to God she's okay."  
  
"Davis, they just couldn't get a hold of her. I'm sure she's fine. You know how Yokas can get - she's probably just overreacting. People are unreachable all the time."  
  
"I know," Ty answered while fiddling with a stray thread that was dangling off of his cuff. "It's just that we were both in that car, Sul. And now he's at home with a broken leg and God knows how many other injuries, not to mention he can't find his mother, and here I am, back on the job as if nothing ever happened… It just doesn't seem fair."  
  
Sully slowed to obey a red light, and took the opportunity to turn towards the face of his worried partner, "You shouldn't feel guilty because you weren't hurt more, Davis. I don't think Bosco, as much of an ass as he can be, wishes you were any worse for the wear."  
  
Davis faked a small smile and let out a breath that he was unaware he was holding, "Yeah, you're right. Still, I hope she's alright."  
  
"You need to stop worrying so much or you won't live to see forty."  
  
"Ah, old man, I'll live 'til I'm 90. You know why? Because I have the willpower to stay away from the donuts," he mocked, while gesturing towards Sully's expanding midriff with a nod of his head.  
  
Sully shot him a warning glare, which Davis nonchalantly shrugged off while returning his eyes to the icy streets outside his window.  
  
"So, where's this bar I've heard so much about?" Davis asked while nervously drumming his fingers on his thigh.  
  
"Ten o'clock," Sully replied, flicking on his left-hand turn signal.   
  
"Nothing to write home about, is it?" Davis said as they crept into the parking lot.  
  
The RMP slowed to a halt in the middle of the lot, sparking a curious glare from Davis to his senior partner.  
  
"You gonna get a little closer? It's kind of cold out."  
  
"Davis," Sully said, ignoring his partner's whining, while not removing his stare from the run-down building to his right, "You see that?"  
  
"What?" Davis asked, alternating his gaze from the bar to Sully in oblivious confusion.  
  
"The window on the far side," he gestured with his hand, "it's smashed."  
  
Davis followed Sully's pointing finger while squinting out the blinding reflection from the surrounding snow. Finally, he settled on the window referred to.   
  
"We gonna go check it out?" Davis asked quietly.  
  
"I don't know, there's something about this that just doesn't seem right," Sully answered, shifting into park.  
  
"Well, we can't just sit here, Sul."  
  
"I know, I know. We'll just take it slow - no stupid movements means you'll live to see that 90th birthday of yours, smart-ass."  
  
Ty stifled a laugh that was more induced by anxiousness than Sully's witty banter.  
  
Both officers simultaneously exited the vehicle without relieving their eyes from the suspicious building.   
  
Sully lead the way to the rear of the bar, gripping his gun, the metal having dropped to an uncomfortable temperature almost immediately after being brought out into the frigid winter air.  
  
Ty followed behind, mimicking his partner's movements by also retrieving his gun from the holster on his   
  
hip.  
  
Davis nearly ran into Sully, not realizing that he had stopped in front of him.  
  
"What are we doing?" Ty asked, quiet enough not to be heard by onlookers, but loud enough to be acknowledged over the galling wind.   
  
Sully didn't bother responding to Davis' question, but instead reached for the radio on his shoulder, "55-Charlie to central. Requesting back-up at 74th and Amsterdam"  
  
Davis squinted again in a vain attempt to see whatever it was Sully was seeing that was bad enough to call for back-up. After tilting his head to the right enough to reduce the glare of off the shattered glass, he saw the broken tables and chairs, strewn across the floor and counters of the battered bar.  
  
A sharp pain tugged at Davis' chest. He inhaled sharply and winced at how the freezing air nipped at his tight lungs.  
  
Sully turned around to face his partner, "You okay?" he asked quizzically after hearing Davis gasp.  
  
"We…" Davis trailed off while gesturing towards the back of the building, "We gotta go in there! We have to make sure she's ok."  
  
Sully shook his head, wondering why his young partner was getting so frazzled over a simple break-in.   
  
"We're not going anywhere until our back-up arrives. What's with you, are you straight?"  
  
Davis shrugged off the comment and attempted to organize the appalling thoughts that were racing viciously through his reeling head, "We can't just do nothing, Sul! I can't do that. What if she needs help? I owe it to Bosco."  
  
Sully pondered Davis' words, and wondered just when it was that his partner had developed such an incredible loyalty to Boscorelli and his family members.  
  
"You aren't going anywhere. If you want to do something so badly, call the house and tell Swersky exactly what's going on."  
  
Davis stood still for a second, suppressing the urge to hit his seemingly stoic partner while contemplating his options. After coming to the realization that Sully was probably right, he nodded and cautiously turned back towards the RMP to retrieve his cell.   
  
***********************  
  
"Where are we going? What's wrong?"  
  
Faith didn't answer right away - her face contemplative as she stared at an imaginary spot on the couch.  
  
"Faith?!" Bosco belted in an attempt to snap his partner out of her trance, his voice rough with anxiety and weariness.   
  
Faith jolted her head upright as if she had been slapped across the back. She proceeded to bolt to her feet and reach nervously for Bosco's crutches.  
  
"Bosco," she started, deliberately avoiding making eye-contact with her impatient partner, whose tolerance was wearing thinner by the second, "I called Lieu to ask him to check up on your Mom. I, uh," she swallowed and willed herself to be supportively courageous and meet Bosco's grim eyes.  
  
"I tried to call her last night and it worried me that I couldn't get a hold of her. He just called me back and said that he sent someone over to check on her and it was reported back to him that the bar had been trashed - ransacked."  
  
Bosco's face faded into an even paler shade than it was before. Faith briefly wondered if he was going to pass out. He looked so fragile.  
  
"And? Where is she? Did they find her?" Though his voice was close to a whisper, the urgency was evident.   
  
Faith fiddled with the crutches while forming her answer.  
  
"He didn't say, Bos. He just said we should come into the house."  
  
Bosco took a second to let the news sink in before nodding, and then prepared himself for the sure to be treacherous rise to his feet.  
  
Faith dove to grab Bosco's elbow as he wavered unsteadily in his quest to stand. She carefully placed each crutch in its respective position while trying to remain a stable support for his trembling body.  
  
"You okay?" she asked, knowing full well that he was far from the suggested.  
  
He just sighed and dropped his chin to his chest before giving an unconvincing nod, "Let's go."  
  
***************************  
  
Ty couldn't resist fumbling with the pen in his pocket while talking on the phone with Swersky. It was a nervous habit that had always been with him, and just being aware of how nervous the situation had made   
  
him, only served to increase his level of stress.   
  
His eyes were shooting back and forth from the bar to Sully - his partner standing precariously vulnerable in the middle of the narrow alley by the rear entrance. In his last alternation, he caught sight of Bosco's Mustang, parked in the furthest corner, remaining unclaimed after the night of the accident. The sight just reminded him of the horrible scene and he ironically contemplated whether or not it would have been safer for Bosco to drive his drunken self home that night.  
  
He snapped back to reality as Swersky began chanting his name.   
  
"Uh, sorry, Lieu. I got distracted. No, everything's the same, nothing else has happened."  
  
He reassured the Lieutenant one more time before ending the conversation.   
  
He again returned his eyes to the vandalized property while mumbling to himself, "I'm sorry, Bosco. I wish I could do more for you…"  
  
************************  
  
Faith glanced over at Bosco, who had said nothing since they left his place -besides cursing several times while maneuvering down the stairwell. He was growing paler and paler by the minute and she wondered whether or not she should have told him to stay put while she scoped out the situation.  
  
She dismissed the idea immediately, realizing that Bosco would have retorted to an extreme extent.  
  
The silence was beginning to gnaw at her conscience, and she debated whether or not small talk would be a wise or ridiculous idea considering the circumstances.  
  
She opened her mouth to make some inane comment about the drop in temperature, but was interrupted by a small voice.  
  
"Faith," he muttered, not bothering to turn to face her - keeping a watchful eye on the large snowflakes fluttering past the window.  
  
"Yeah, Bos?" she asked, trying to match his volume level.  
  
"Pull over."  
  
She had heard that request before, and knowing better than to question the reason behind it, she immediately glanced over her right shoulder to make sure no one was coming up behind, before pulling over onto the shoulder and coming to an abrupt halt.  
  
Before the tires had even stopped rotating, Bosco had shoved his door open and leaned out while heaving painfully several times, his body trying in vain to purge his stomach of it's few contents.  
  
He groaned at the stinging agony the convulsions induced in his side, and subconsciously placed his left hand across his abdomen to the source of the anguish.   
  
Faith waited patiently for the horrible sounds to cease, and after hearing a shuddering breath from her partner that indicated he was indeed done, she spoke out soothingly, "You okay, Bos?"  
  
She saw him nod a slightly, but he made no movement to turn his body around so she could resume their trip.  
  
Faith reached out and gently placed a hand on his back. He jumped slightly at her touch, apparently uncomfortable with the entire situation.  
  
Once Bosco was sure that the voracious heaving was indeed finished, he gently turned around - trying carefully to organize his legs into a semi-comfortable position in front of him.  
  
He could feel Faith staring at him, but that was the least of his concerns. He wished he could just snap his fingers and be at the house, therefore avoiding this incident wholly.   
  
"Bos?"  
  
"Mmm?" he mumbled back, trying not to raise his head and stimulate another wave of nausea.   
  
"You okay now?"  
  
"Yeah," he whispered, whishing she would just go and stop talking to him. His body was screaming and he craved those pills now more than ever.  
  
"Can you close your door then?" Faith asked, trying not to sound mocking in nature, but knowing that Bosco would think she was poking fun at him.  
  
"Oh, sorry," he replied, keeping his left arm protectively across his stomach while reaching for the handle with his right and slamming the door shut.  
  
Faith shot him a worried glance before turning back into traffic.  
  
"You sure you're up for this, Bos?"  
  
"It's my Ma, Faith. Of course I'm up for it."  
  
He was quite unconvincing, but Faith knew that she should pick her battles, and allowed the rest of the ride to consist of an uncomfortable silence.  
  
Faith pulled into the parking lot at the side of the precinct house. Bosco continued to stare blankly out the window in -what she assumed- was some sort of trance.  
  
"Bos, we're here now."  
  
He didn't respond to her statement by moving, but instead sighed lightly, "I'm so scared of what I'm going to find out."  
  
Did she just hear this right? Did Bosco the 'all mighty' just admit fear? Voluntarily giving away emotional status was not a usual occurrence, and Faith found herself frozen in shock.  
  
"I," she paused for a second, deciding to adopt a motherly standpoint while addressing her partner, "I know, Bos. I'm scared too. But let's not worry about something that hasn't happened, okay?"  
  
Bosco seemed to accept her comforting words and turned to face her, his eyes bloodshot and his expression worrisome amidst his pale complexion, "God, Faith, I hope you're right."  
  
TBC. Please review and more shall magically come your way ;) 


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for the great reviews, you guys are amazing. Sorry for the delay, I've been swamped by last minute assignments and exams. Soon enough, that will all be over.   
  
Thanks so much for reading, and I apologize ahead of time for the lack of plot progress in this chapter. As most of you know, I just get so caught up in thoughts and descriptions sometimes ;)  
  
Enjoy this chapter,  
  
~Joey~  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
-A Fine Balance-  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Bosco apprehensively guided his battered body into a more manageable position before leaning forward onto his feet. Faith watched from the corner of her eye - carefully letting her main attention fall on a decoy in her purse - knowing that if he could feel her stare, he would rush unnecessarily.  
  
As he limped awkwardly into the station house - refusing to allow himself to rely solely on the crutches for balance- he felt every muscle suddenly contract in a tense reaction to the quiet unease that enveloped the usually bustling structure. Every step sent a new round of fire through his chest, and he silently pleaded for a chair or even a wall - something or anything to lean against would be much appreciated.  
  
***********  
  
Faith walked slowly behind her partner, allowing him to dictate the pace and preparing to catch him if need be. She saw his body suddenly stiffen as they walked through the large black doors that marked the entrance, and moved a little closer, anticipating a faltering step.  
  
She felt a hand on her back, and spun around to be greeted by Lieutenant Swersky, a forced smile shaped his face as he unwillingly welcomed two of his officers, in spite of the bleak circumstances.  
  
"Oh, hey, Lieu," Faith sputtered at the sight of the worried Lieutenant, dreading any news he could possibly have to offer - after coming to the realization that no news could possibly be good news.  
  
"Yokas," he nodded, speaking quietly. After taking a deep breath, trying not to sound too sympathetic, he motioned his chin towards Bosco, who was attempting to turn around to face the conversation, "Bosco."  
  
Bosco didn't respond, in fact, he barely raised his head to meet Lieu's empathy filled eyes. He gave a nearly undetectable nod and swallowed.   
  
"Why don't you two come with me. I can't say I have much to tell you, but I thought you," he gestured towards Bosco, "would want to be here if any news came through."  
  
"Um, yeah…," Bosco cleared his throat and tried to force his voice to sound more stable, "thanks, Lieu - for everything."  
  
The Lieutenant nodded his acceptance of Bosco's gratitude, and opened a door to one of the offices. He winked at Faith, and she smiled back - realizing that he had purposely inhabited one of the lower level offices tentatively, to avoid the eminent struggle that would undoubtedly occur had Bosco been forced to tackle the stairs leading to the Lieu's usual working space.   
  
Once both officers had taken their seats, the Lieutenant slowly shut the door and made his way to the chair behind the desk. He frowned deeply before lowering himself into the cracked leather, then intertwined his hands while leaning forward on his elbows.   
  
"Not much has changed since I spoke to you last," he said, addressing Faith with a troubled expression, "However, back-up should have gotten there by now and I'm sure that Sullivan and Davis will let us know as soon as they can."  
  
He swiveled slightly in the old chair, which let out an objective squeak, then turned his attention towards Bosco, who appeared to be holding on by a thread.   
  
"Boscorelli," he said, firmness making up for his lack of exuberance.  
  
Bosco half-heartedly lifted his gaze to meet Swersky's, pain and sorrow clearly written across his features.  
  
"I need to ask you a few questions, just so I know exactly what we're dealing with here."  
  
Bosco swallowed again, trying to suppress all the emotions that were quickly surfacing, "Okay."  
  
It was becoming more and more apparent that simple, one word answers were all they were going to get out of Bosco today.  
  
"Faith said something earlier about how you saw your mother on the night of the accident?"  
  
Though it wasn't really a question, Bosco's brain began spinning, searching for any answers that could possibly assist in the safe recovery of his mother.  
  
"Yeah, I was at her bar that night," his voice was clearly unsteady, which prompted Faith to shoot him a worried glare, as she tried to decipher whether the wavering was a result of emotional or physical distress.   
  
Again, Bosco tried desperately to stabilize his voice before he continued, "I was there until around one in the morning… I think. I can't really remember," his eyes weren't focusing on anything in particular as he wracked his brain to recall the horrific night he spent the previous few days trying so hard to eradicate from his memory. "I know she was there when I left though."  
  
Faith shot Swersky a warning glare, deciding that this was perhaps, after all, not such a good idea. The seasoned Lieutenant attended to her concern by returning her gaze with one that let her know he wasn't going to push it.   
  
Far from satisfied, Faith turned her attention back towards Bosco, whose eyes were clenched shut, as if fighting off some intrusive internal demon.  
  
"Okay, but you didn't see or hear from her following that night?"  
  
Bosco deliberately shook his head slowly from side to side, keeping his eyes closed.   
  
Swersky looked over to Faith, and gave a small shrug while turning his palms upwards.   
  
Faith nodded back, arranging a silent agreement with the Lieutenant, to hold off on any further questioning until Bosco appeared to be recovered from whatever it was that appeared to have taken away his focus for the time being.  
  
Several torturous seconds of deafening silence passed, and Faith's motherly concern for her partner continued to increase in magnitude with each rhythmic tick of the clock.   
  
As if he was suddenly expelled from the turmoil that had held his brain hostage, Bosco drew surprised glares from both Faith and Swersky, as he grabbed his crutches and hastily exited the room.   
  
The Lieutenant raised his eyebrows in obvious confusion, as Faith struggled with the decision of whether or not to follow her ailing partner. Deciding that it would probably be best to allow him all the space and time he needed to regain his composure, she leaned back into the wooden chair with a sigh.  
  
"Was it something I said?" Swersky finally broke the silence, his eyebrows still raised in confusion.  
  
"No, Lieu, he's just not feeling well. I'm sure that if we just give him some time, he'll come around," Faith did her best to convince her boss, who still looked quite doubtful.   
  
"Okay," he replied, mimicking her actions by leaning back into the worn chair, "I won't even pretend to know him as well as you do."  
  
Faith thanked her boss with an uneasy smile, then anxiously worried about the state of her partner - wishing that there was something more she could do to help him through what must be a tremendously difficult time.  
  
**************  
  
Davis gave an impatient sigh, as he again, strained his eyes and ears in an attempt to distinguish any sight or sound that would indicate back-up was soon arriving.  
  
Sully turned to face him, annoyed with the pacing and sighing emitted every few seconds form his young counterpart.  
  
"Relax, Davis, they'll be here soon."  
  
"What's it been now, ten - fifteen minutes?" Davis shot back, flustered by the laissez-faire attitude of the veteran cop.  
  
"They'll be here," Sully replied rather than answering the question, knowing that a more specific response would only spur on his disconcerted partner further. "What is with you, today? I've never seen you so… I don't know, 'raring to go'."  
  
Davis shook his head while checking his watch again, avoiding the antagonistic question, "It doesn't usually take this long," he simply stated.  
  
The cracking of ice-covered snow beneath tires, caught Davis' attention, and he spun around to be rewarded with the sight of another RMP.  
  
"It's about time," he muttered.  
  
"Don't," Sully warned his partner from pursuing the matter any further.  
  
The officers in 55-Edward casually gathered their belongings before exiting the car. As if anticipating another angry comment from Davis, Sully shot him a glare that spoke volumes, dispelling any sarcastic remarks that Ty was preparing to shoot at the nonchalant officers.   
  
"What've we got here, Sullivan?"  
  
"Appears to be a break-in and entry - the place is pretty much trashed. I don't know if anyone's in there."  
  
The other seasoned officer nodded, while dismantling his nightstick from its holster on his hip, "Who called it in?"  
  
"Well," Sully sighed, allowing his voice to take on a more personal tone, "It's actually Boscorelli's mother's bar. They hadn't heard from her in a while and they sent us here to check it out. This," he pointed at the vandalized property, "is what we found."  
  
"This is Bosco's mom's place?" the officer reiterated, making sure he had his facts straight, concern suddenly impacting his approach to the whole situation.  
  
Both Davis and Sully nodded.  
  
"Okay, well let's not waste any more time. Let's go." the other member of 55-Edward stated, starting the wheels in motion.  
  
Davis, relieved that he could actually do something, led the group of four towards the rear of the building.   
  
  
  
***************  
  
Faith glanced at her watch, it was becoming more and more apparent that Bosco wasn't about to rejoin them any time soon.   
  
Searching for any other form of amusement, she directed a question at Swersky, "Any news on that kid that caused the accident?"  
  
Swersky looked relieved that another topic could entertain his thoughts for a while, "Apparently, he's healing well, but he's younger than originally thought."  
  
The comment sparked Faith's curiosity, and she leaned forward while asking the obvious, "How young?"  
  
"Sixteen."  
  
Faith's eyes grew wide. What would a sixteen year old be doing driving around at one in the morning with a pick-up truck full of booze and cash? Immediately she thought of Emily, dreading the day her adolescent daughter takes the test that allows her to operate a vehicle, and praying that she could, for once, use the good judgment she had tried to instill upon her throughout the first 15 years of her life, when she finally gets behind the wheel.  
  
Extracting herself from her disturbing thoughts, Faith looked back at Swersky, "So, what does that mean?"  
  
"Well, it means a bunch of things, especially considering the kid isn't talking. The only time he speaks is when he asks about his dad."  
  
"They can't contact his family?"  
  
"They tried contacting his father for him, but haven't had any luck yet. He didn't mention any other family members. But they can't release him until a guardian of some sort shows up. Not to mention the extensive charges this kid is facing…"  
  
Swersky was interrupted when the door clicked open, and a significantly paler Boscorelli, entered the room.  
  
Bosco sensed the break in conversation upon his re-entry, which just served to add to the already sky-high discomfort that was consuming his mind and body. He stopped for a second, looking at Faith with questioning eyes.  
  
Faith responded to her partners worried look and near-green complexion, by pushing his chair out so that it would require less arranging and struggling for Bosco to resume his seat.  
  
As he made his way towards the vacant resting spot, a head peaked around the door, shortly followed by an announcement, "Lieutenant Swersky, there's a call on line 2 for you."  
  
Swersky thanked the younger lady before excusing himself from the room.   
  
Faith was almost positive that the phone that occupied the desk was functional, but knew that the Lieutenant did not want to be asking any potentially sensitive questions in front of Bosco, who looked like he couldn't handle much more stress at the moment.  
  
Once the door was again shut, Faith turned to her partner, "You okay, Bos?"  
  
Her voice was low, and despite the fact that she knew he hated that question more than anything else in the world, she couldn't let it go unasked.  
  
Bosco took a shaky breath, averting his eyes from those of his prying partner's.   
  
His lack of response spoke louder than any words possibly could, and Faith's heart ached for him. If he was her child, she would have enveloped him in a supportive hug, but needless to say, that wasn't really an option - nor was it what Bosco really needed right now.   
  
Instead, she stared long and hard at his face, as if letting him know that he couldn't shrug her off so easily, but she wasn't going to make him do or say anything that he was uncomfortable with. It was an understanding they had - a trust and support structure that had taken years to build and solidify.  
  
He responded the only way he knew how, he dropped his head and nodded. No questions asked, no answers given. It was the way it had to be, and neither of them was about to object.  
  
************  
  
Davis slowed his previously rapid pace, as he approached the battered building. He could feel his stomach growing more and more uneasy as he drew closer. This was no different than the thousand other times they had investigated a break-in and potential robbery, except this time, he felt the guilt of responsibility clutching onto his every nerve. No matter how many times he told himself that this was 'just another call', he couldn't rid his body of that awful feeling of liability.   
  
Before pulling back the handle on the rear door, which was precariously propped open by an empty beer bottle, he glanced over his shoulder to the three officers following closely behind.  
  
Sully nodded, "Okay, let's go."  
  
'Let's go… it's that simple,' Davis thought to himself, as he watched his shaky hand reach for the cold metal bar.   
  
Without any further hesitation, his instincts took over. Swapping into 'cop mode', he yanked the door open with one swift movement, allowing his years of training and experience to guide him through what was 'just another call'.  
  
TBC. Please let me know what you think. Thanks ;) 


	7. Chapter 7

Okay my friends, here's chapter 7. To those that are reading (LOL), enjoy!  
  
~Joey~  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
-A Fine Balance-  
  
Chapter 7  
  
More than anything else, Bosco wanted to hear one tiny little piece of good news. In the past three days, every bit of information that was thrown his way consisted of bad news. It was frustrating and depressing, and he felt himself slipping into that 'nothing good can come of this' mode.   
  
Simply put, everything hurt. The muscles in his chest ached with every expansion on his lungs, his head pounded behind his eyes, and his stomach burned with every new wave of nausea that ripped through his abdomen. He was just so tired and so unbelievably 'sore' - he wasn't sure he could even lift his head.  
  
"Bosco, they're going to find her. Everything's going to be okay." Faith immediately shook her head at her own comment - realizing that saying nothing would probably have be better than empty promises.   
  
There was no answer. No acknowledgment whatsoever, and Faith sighed a little, slipping back into her chair in defeat. She hated not being able to do anything, and wished she could be out there with the others, assisting in the search. She looked back to Bosco's frail form before realizing that though doing so might make her feel better, her best friend needed someone by his side right now - even if it was just a silent partner.  
  
***********  
  
Ty clutched his gun, every few seconds rearranging his grip to distract his mind from wandering into descriptive visions of dreaded findings.   
  
He stepped into the darkened building, allowing his eyes several seconds to adjust to the significantly dimmer setting. Once his pupils had made the necessary modifications, he cautiously proceeded forward.   
  
His heart sank when he saw just how demolished the interior of the building was. No table was left unturned and the floor was sporadically covered by a clear liquid, which Ty assumed was liquor. It looked like a pack of teenagers had all decided to throw a mass temper-tantrum, ensuring that nothing was left intact.  
  
The three followers behind him had dispersed in all different directions, four sets of eyes scanning the mess for any sign of life.   
  
Nothing.   
  
Sometimes nothing was better than something. Sure, they didn't find his Mom, but did they really want to find her here?   
  
Once he had reached the front end of the bar, Ty sighed, letting his gun fall to his side. Sully came out of the back room displaying similar posture.   
  
"Nothing back there," he stated. A quick look to his other officers showed they had pretty much found the same thing.   
  
"What do we do now?" Ty asked, already anticipating their next move.  
  
Sully grumbled something under his breathe about discovering his new 'go-getter' partner before replying, "Call Swersky, tell him we found nothing. Then we'll decide what to do next."  
  
Ty nodded while holstering his weapon. He vigilantly avoided the shards of glass and puddles of alcohol while venturing back towards the door through which he had entered.   
  
Turning back one more time before exiting into the harsh-cold, he glanced across the wet floor.  
  
'At least it's not blood,' he thought to himself.  
  
**********  
  
"What's taking so long?"  
  
Faith nearly fell off her chair. The last thing she was expecting was an entire sentence out of her hurting partner.  
  
"I, uh," she stammered, clearly unprepared for his line of questioning. "I don't know…" she conceded in defeat, resorting to honesty once realizing that she couldn't come up with another sufficient answer.  
  
He almost seemed to appreciate her bluntness, and despite all the disheartening emotions soaring through his body, he couldn't help but show traces of a smile, amused by Faith's blunder.   
  
Faith caught the look on Bosco's face and restrained herself from swatting him - deciding she would let this one slip, even if at was at her expense. Besides, she couldn't remember the last time she saw any expression on his face that even remotely resembled a smile.  
  
The door cracked open and Lieutenant Swersky slipped into the room, greeting the officers with wide eyes before settling back into the worn chair.  
  
"They checked out the bar. Besides being turned completely upside down, they didn't come across anything," he leaned forward while preparing his next statement. "Bosco."  
  
Bosco responded by slowly lifting his eyes until they were level with Swersky's.  
  
"Why don't you go back to your apartment," he rushed to continue, not allowing his most stubborn officer to interject, "Right now, there's nothing you can do here, and there's no point in you hanging around just waiting for information. Let Yokas take you home and I promise you, the second I hear even the most insignificant detail, I'll call you."  
  
Bosco glared at the Lieutenant, trying to gage how adamant his boss was on the matter. Swersky responded with a 'don't test me' tilt of the head.  
  
"Fine," Bosco whispered to the surprise of the two other people in the room.  
  
Faith jumped up, not allowing any time for a sudden change of decision, while handing her partner his crutches.  
  
As Bosco flimsily made his way out the door under the supervision of Faith, Swersky discretely tapped her on the shoulder.   
  
Faith turned to face the Lieutenant, trying to keep one eye on Bosco.  
  
"Why don't you take the day off and stay with Bosco," he whispered. "Besides, I'm not too sure how much longer he'll be awake, and if I hear something, I'll need someone there to answer the phone."  
  
Faith gave an understanding smile at Swersky's suggestion, relaying with her eyes that they were on the same page. "That's probably a good idea," she responded, before turning to help guide their subject-of-concern out of the house.  
  
************  
  
Davis flipped his phone shut after conveying the lack of news to Lieutenant Swersky. With a sigh, he raised his hands to his head, slowly rubbing at his eyes and temples in an attempt to soothe away the tension headache that had taken up residence in his skull.  
  
'This is not good,' he thought to himself. 'It's been three days since anyone has been in contact with Bosco's mom. By now, she could be on the other side of the planet, leaving little to no hope of ever recovering her.'   
  
He winced at his choice of word… recover. He didn't want to think about 'recovering' anything. That always implied a body. A lifeless, empty body. How could he ever explain that to Bosco?   
  
What bothered him even more was that it seemed he was the only one who gave a damn about finding this woman. If he had to listen to one more 'relax, Davis' comment from his complacent partner, he wasn't so sure he could refrain from using his nightstick in response.  
  
He once again allowed his eyes to drift over to the run-down building. Something about it caught his eye, and he leaned down to try to get a better view through the driver's side window of the RMP. The window to the apartment above the bar was wide open, allowing a curtain to catch in the wind.   
  
************  
  
Faith helped Bosco settle onto the couch before wandering into the kitchen in search of the desperately needed pills. Relieved they were exactly where she had left them the night before, she extracted the necessary capsules, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and headed back into the living area.  
  
His eyes were closed, but it was obvious he wasn't sleeping. Right now, she was almost positive that there wasn't a possibility Bosco could sleep unassisted by drugs.  
  
He separated his heavy eyelids when she placed the pills in his one open palm while handing the bottle of water to his other. He unceremoniously dumped the entire handful of pills into his mouth before washing them down with the soothing, cold liquid.  
  
"Thanks," he muttered once he had successfully taken the drugs.  
  
"No problem," she replied, taking a seat on the chair opposite the television.  
  
"Did you want to lie down in bed?" Faith asked before getting comfortable.  
  
"No, it's fine here. I don't really want to sleep anyway."  
  
She nodded, then reached for the remote control. It was obvious that there would be no stimulating conversation between the two of them, provoking her need for television to reduce the gaping void left by the silence.  
  
After flipping through what seemed like endless re-runs of old sitcoms, Faith stole a glance over at Bosco. His eyes were half-opened and glazed over, staring in the direction of the television, but obviously not paying it any attention - if so, he would have commented on Faith's lack of taste in programs.  
  
He simply looked uncomfortable, and Faith wondered what horrible thoughts he was allowing his mind to conjure up.  
  
"How's your knee?" she asked, trying more to steal him from his thoughts than to obtain a medical update.  
  
"Hmm?" he asked, looking mildly frustrated that she had disturbed him.  
  
"I was just wondering how you knee is feeling."  
  
Bosco looked down at his right leg as if asking it the same question. He stared long and hard at the badly injured limb before turning back to Faith.   
  
"It's sore," he stated very matter-of-factly. He had been patiently waiting for the pills to kick in and do their work, but the aching in his leg seemed to be increasing in intensity - every heartbeat sending new shockwaves through his shin and knee that reverberated up into his hip.   
  
Faith nodded and was slightly discouraged at the grimace that occupied Bosco's face shortly after he had spoken.  
  
The ringing of the phone caused them both to jump as they were simultaneously roused form their respective thoughts.  
  
Bosco made the motion to get up, but quickly forfeited after he saw Faith was already halfway across the room.  
  
"Hello?" Faith answered, slightly out of breath from her short-distance sprint.  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
************  
  
Davis' chest tightened, panic setting in for reasons he couldn't exactly identify.   
  
"Shit," he mumbled to himself, reaching for the door handle without removing his eyes from the floundering curtain.   
  
'I would have noticed that,' he thought, almost positive that when they were waiting for back-up, that window had been closed.  
  
As if suddenly sprung from his contemplative trance, Davis shot out of the RMP, un-holstering his gun as he approached the building.  
  
"Sully!" he called out before walking through the door.  
  
"What?" Sully responded half-heartedly, but his eyes widened when he saw Davis clutching his gun - instincts prompting him to follow suit.  
  
"The window," Davis nearly whispered, "it's open."  
  
"What window?" Sully asked in confusion, noting that the other two officers were also nervously clutching their weapons.  
  
"We gotta check out the upstairs," he responded, pointing his gun to the ceiling while mouthing the words.  
  
Sully nodded, a little flustered and curious as to what kind of window would set Davis off in such a way.  
  
Before Davis could set one foot on the stairs that lead to the upper-level apartment, the distinctive sound of metal blasting off metal caused all four officers to dive protectively to the floor.  
  
"10-13! 10-13!"  
  
TBC… 


	8. Chapter 8

I am so sorry for taking so long to update this story. My vacation kind of snowballed and before I knew it, it had been three and a half weeks since I last wrote. Good news though, I am back and I am refreshed and ready to finish this story.  
  
I want to thank everyone that was so supportive despite my little leave of absence and I can only hope that I can return the favor with some decent writing. I do want you to know though, that your support means so much to me and really is the major contributing factor to my motivation to continue. Thanks again.  
  
And Sarah, you make every chapter possible and I cannot reiterate this enough, THANK-YOU SO MUCH!  
  
Enjoy, my friends!  
  
~Joey~  
  
-A Fine Balance-  
  
Chapter 8  
  
Bullets were released from every direction - each officer firing at the unknown with no distinct direction or destination for the dangerous pieces of shrapnel.   
  
Ty felt the presence of an enormous pressure that forced him to the ground with such intensity, that he wasn't sure when his body would be able to regain the compulsory function of breathing. The sharp, deafening noise of bullets missing the soft target of a body, and connecting with random pieces of metal, filled the previously tranquil air, accompanied by the occasional scream of terror or pain. The two sounds nearly inseparable, but distinctly different in their deliverance.   
  
Gradually, the firing slowed and finally ceased. No one made any move to investigate, each person taking the necessary time to assess and survey the damage. Davis lifted his head and attempted to straighten his body, which retorted when he pulled his arms away from his stomach. He glanced from one arm to the other, his eyes settling on the wet patch of fabric, saturated by blood.   
  
He froze in fear, completely unsure of the depth of his injury, but also not willing to take any unnecessary chances that could possibly cause more extensive damage.  
  
The other three officers were also beginning to withdraw from their respective trances, all at different speeds and all consumed by different levels of fear-induced, paralyzed states. Sully had quickly been convinced that if he had suffered any injuries, none were serious enough to warrant any further attention, and he started scanning the room to check on the others, starting with Davis.   
  
Sully followed his partner's eyes to the wound that had captured his attention. Its positioning didn't look too bad, but it was often hard to tell through the clothing. He shifted his glance back to Davis' eyes in an attempt to read just how severely hurt the young cop was - not wanting to verbalize his questions in fear that they were still being hunted from above.   
  
Davis' eyes were wide with fear, then quickly narrowed in disgust, as if he had been insulted in the worst possible way. Had the circumstances not been so tenuous, Sully would have laughed at his partner's sudden change in demeanor, knowing that Davis had come to the conclusion that the wound would not be his doom, but rather a pain in the ass.  
  
Sully looked to the other two officers, who each made eye contact, neither looking like they were facing death. Convinced that he had enough functional manpower to pursue their attacker further, Sully slowly pulled his feet underneath him, not relieving his eyes from the staircase above.  
  
The others all followed his lead. The only sound that could be heard was the click of empty clips being replenished.   
  
Sully took two careful steps towards the stairs, waving his right arm towards his back, gesturing to the others to form an allegiance directly behind him.   
  
As he was completing his third step towards his destination, Sully jumped at a voice coming from above, breaking the eerie silence.  
  
"DON'T!"  
  
All four officers froze, no one was able to see above the halfway point of the staircase, assuring the anonymity of their attacker.   
  
"I swear I'll shoot her! Don't come any closer!"  
  
Davis nudged Sully from behind, and the two officers at the front of the line lowered their weapons in response to the threat.   
  
"Drop your weapons…" there was a slight pause in the man's erratically voiced demand, "Do it, or I swear I'll kill her!"  
  
Sully bent his knees, purposely leaning over as far as possible, trying to use the movement to his advantage and hopefully catch a glance of the perp.  
  
  
  
With a subtle shift of his eyes, Sully was able to capture a quick, albeit clear, look at the man standing at the lip of the top step. He was a middle-aged, white man with what looked like some sort of ancient piece of artillery - something that would usually be spotted in an antique shop. Sully was often at the receiving end of jokes referring to his choice of gun, a little six-shooter that he had been using for as long as he could remember, but this guy had him beat.  
  
Realizing that the man could probably only see his feet, and maybe Davis', from his position at the top of the stairs, Sully carefully turned around and motioned to the fourth officer in line, to tip-toe outside and call for help. The cop, who didn't look much older than 20, seemed relieved and spun around, immediately retreating towards the back door.   
  
**********************  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
Bosco felt a chill sweep from his feet through his chest and settle with a bang in his already pounding skull.   
  
He spun as fast as he could to at least view Faith's facial expression, seeing as how she was far too engaged in the news to take a moment to inform him on what events could be so shocking.  
  
Faith felt her jaw slacken and then noticed that Bosco was analyzing her every expression. She abruptly shut her mouth and turned her back to her partner, providing her a little time to regain her composure before she had to break the news.   
  
Bosco watched Faith reach behind her back to hang up the phone, and waited for an endless eternity for her to turn around. Faith didn't appear to be making any such movement and Bosco found himself beyond frustrated, yet unable to form words to ask her questions… or yell at her for delaying the inevitable.  
  
"Bos, that was Swersky."  
  
Bosco felt a lump forming in his throat and hot tears stinging his eyes, threatening to spill. Did he really want to know?  
  
"They know where your mom is." Faith finally turned around, to find that Bosco had resumed his previous position, his back now turned to her.  
  
"And?" Bosco asked unsteadily, raw emotion present and unavoidable in his quiet question. He found his chest had tightened to an extent that made it difficult to breathe, a sensation that was not foreign to him by any means.  
  
Faith walked around the front of the table, suddenly feeling courageous enough to face her obviously upset partner.  
  
"Bos," she said softly, while sitting on the coffee table in front of him. His chin was against his chest, eyes set on his hands which were fidgeting nervously in his lap. "She's alive."  
  
An audible, shaky sigh immediately followed the statement. Faith cleared her throat, not wanting her partner to feel too relieved only to experience the despair and disappointment that would undoubtedly accompany her next sentence.  
  
"That's not it, Bos."  
  
Bosco made a move to wipe away any stray tears that might have escaped his lids, despite his greatest efforts to suppress them. He blinked a couple of times to clear his vision, and then looked towards Faith, his eyes swimming with a unique mix of curiosity and anxiety.   
  
"What? What else? Where is she?"  
  
"She's…" Faith fumbled with her choice of words, simply trying to avoid inspiring any false hope in her vulnerable partner, "She's in her apartment."  
  
Bosco was getting frustrated, unable to see how the news could be considered good, bad or indifferent.   
  
"But she's not alone."  
  
As calmly and carefully as possible, Faith attempted to relay the information Swersky had given her. Bosco's expression was unreadable. His brain was on sensory overload and he couldn't quite place his feelings and thoughts in any sort of order that would allow him to form sentences.  
  
"Bosco," Faith interjected, interrupting his disorganized thoughts, anger and impatience consuming her voice to form a verbal slap on her partner. She recognized her uncalled-for harshness, and modified her tone to sound more understanding, "Talk to me, please. Tell me what you're thinking."  
  
"I'm thinking we gotta go," he stated, promptly dragging his failing body into a standing position, and making his way to the door.  
  
Faith watched, wondering if she should object, but ended up nodding with a sigh, "Okay."  
  
*****************************  
  
Sully felt a nudge from behind, and resisted the urge to slap Davis. This was one of those times where it paid to wait. Being glory hungry in this situation, would only result in more bullets.   
  
Davis noticed the sideways glare he got from Sully in response to his prodding. He couldn't understand why they weren't doing anything. Surely, something had to be done… he just had no idea what, exactly.  
  
"Where is he? What have you done with him?"  
  
The questions were spoken in a shrill, emotionally wrought voice, and both Sully and Davis shot each other questioning glares.  
  
"Who are you talking about, sir?" Sully was happy to simply stall until ESU made it's grand entrance, but he was quite curious as to what the lunatic was referring to. Perhaps he was convinced some aliens had stolen his baby or best friend. At least the mental instability would explain why he was holding some innocent woman hostage in her apartment after trashing her bar.  
  
"He said he was coming back to get me. What did you do to him?! Where have you taken him?! He would have come back unless you had taken him!"  
  
Sully recognized that the guy was getting a little too passionate, and passion usually resulted in stupidity… which in turn meant more bullets. He held out his arm and pushed Davis back a little before resuming the conversation with the perp in as calm a voice as he could muster, "I'm sorry, sir, I don't know what you are talking about. Who didn't come back?"  
  
"She TOLD me! She told me her son was a cop. I know you've got him. If you don't return him, perfectly safe and sound, I WILL kill her!"  
  
Davis shuddered at the crude remark. 'Please let ESU get here soon,' he thought to himself.  
  
"You're going to have to tell me who you are talking about, sir."  
  
"MY SON!"  
  
TBC. Thanks so much to those of you reviewing. It means a lot to me ;)   
  
And careful, don't jump to conclusions as to where this is going. I know it's been a while but think back to the beginning… 


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks to everyone that didn't hold a grudge when I didn't update for an eternity ;) You guys are awesome, and I can only hope that I can supply you with writing that justifies your support. 

Thanks so much! 

~Joey~ 

Disclaimer: I own nothing. 

****

**-A Fine Balance-**

****

**Chapter 9**

Bosco was struggling to maintain a semi-normal breathing pattern as he made his way to the vehicle. His mind had succeeded in forming a barrier that served to block out the pain that each and every movement instigated, but he subconsciously knew that his body was quickly faltering and he prayed that he could make it to Faith's truck without falling flat on his face. 

Faith found herself breaking into a slight jog every few steps as she tried to keep up with Bosco, who was covering a substantial amount of ground despite his laborious actions. She noticed his pace gradually slowing as he got closer to his target, which afforded her the opportunity to catch up and open his door, avoiding the struggle that would undoubtedly be enormously frustrating to watch had he tried to do it unassisted. 

As Faith methodically latched her seatbelt and turned the key in the ignition, she caught something disturbing in the corner of her eye. She turned her head slightly towards Bosco to see that his hand was gripping the door handle with one hand; his eyes clenched shut, as if trying desperately to block out a deafening noise. 

"I don't know" Bosco started, shaky at first but slightly more stable after a short intermission, "I don't know if I can should do this." 

Faith shook her head instantly, confused and feeling mislead by the statement. 

"Well, we don't have to go, Bos. It's just I mean, it's your mom and I thought that you I thought you wanted to be there." 

There was no response from the passenger; he just remained frozen and rigid, holding his ground in a cloud of uncertainty. 

"If I get there, what am I going to do?" 

Faith wasn't sure if his question was rhetorical in nature, or if he really expected her to come up with an answer. Surely he realized the severity of the situation, but his sudden change in demeanor had thrown her. And what was he implying with the 'if'? Was he planning on bailing halfway there? 

Bosco wasn't actually listening or anticipating a response, and was unsure whether or not Faith had attempted to answer his question. 

"You know, as well as I do" Bosco swallowed, barely able to finish his sentence due to the sudden overwhelming emotion that had run away with any shred of composure he had previously possessed, "that these things never work out." 

She couldn't argue with that, but she also could not remember a single time in the ten years she and Bosco had been paired, when he took the time the analyze the statistics of a situation. As a result, often his ignorance granted him the ability to beat the odds. Why, now, was he being analytical and tentative? Now, when it really mattered - when she needed him to be himself. 

"That's not true, Bos. They'll get her out of there. She'll be" 

"Alive?" Bosco interrupted her. "They'll get her out, but will she be alive?" his eyes shot open and he glared hard at his partner. "I can't watch them carry my mother out unless she's alive." 

Faith felt her eyes start to water. Bosco had a tendency to be gullible at times, but she could not sit across from him and guarantee that he would talk to his mother again, and it was killing her - it was killing him. 

"Go." 

Faith jumped slightly at the demand. Bosco had turned his face away from her and was staring straight ahead out the window. His face was cold and emotionless, as if he had suddenly managed to block all personal feelings and just go through the motions, similar to the day of the accident. 

Faith responded to him the only way she figured she could, she shifted the car into drive and headed towards Rose's. 

********************* 

"MY SON!" 

Sully shook his head. This lunatic just expected everyone to know what the hell, or more importantly, who the hell he was talking about. Sully glanced over his shoulder towards Davis, as if to share a mental laugh about the mental case they were trying to stall. 

Davis shrugged his shoulders at Sully's 'is this guy crazy, or what?' look. 

Just as Sully was about to turn around, Davis' eyes widened as if he had just experienced an epiphany. 

"The kid!" Davis whispered, his face still bright with his newfound realization. 

"What kid?" Sully shot back, confusion slowly churning into more frustration for the older cop. "Davis?!" Sully harshly whispered again, after Ty didn't immediately answer his question. 

"The kid. You know, from the accident." 

Before Sully could even begin to formulate a response to Davis' revelation, sirens pierced through the tense, still air. 

"I TOLD YOU!" The man screamed out at the announcement of the arrival of backup. Davis, Sully and the third officer barely had time to jerk backwards before the frightened man began firing again. The three bolted to the exit to the soundtrack of repetitive bullets missing their intended target. 

"What the hell kind of farce are we a part of?!" Sully screamed, pressed against the outer wall of the building, trying vehemently to catch his breathe and steady his weapon. 

The new officers on the scene were crouching behind the RMP in which they had arrived, guns drawn in anticipation, though no clear shot of the man could be visualized from anyone's point of view. 

The younger officer that Sully had instructed to call for help, was also pinning himself against the exterior of the bar, his hands shaking from sheer panic. 

"Didn't you tell them about the situation?!" Sully spat at the shaken cop. "I thought you were going to have them send ESU?!" 

"I just requested backup I thought that was the right thing to do." came the unsure reply. 

Sully and Davis both sighed in annoyance. Davis couldn't help but wonder what the hell they were teaching kids at the Academy these days, then mentally laughed at himself for sounding so much like Sully. Now they were all trapped and there was no communication with the guy. 

'This is going to get ugly,' he thought to himself. 

********************* 

Faith slowed as she rounded the corner, spotting two RMPs from a distance. 

"Stop here," Bosco said quietly, but steadily. 

Faith obeyed, not wanting to get too close in case the place wasn't already secured. 

Bosco swung his door open, and very carefully allowed his body to lower until his feet softly connected with the ground below. Despite the delicacy of his movement, he gasped when he made contact - reminding him that certain degrees of pain couldn't always be ignored. 

He quickly found the inner strength to recover, not even bothering to grab his crutches before he awkwardly limped to the front of the truck, trying to assess the situation occurring a couple hundred feet in front of him. 

"Do you want me to call in and see what's" Faith's voice trailed off when she caught the sound of approaching sirens. 

Both officers turned to see the speeding RMP race by them and slam to a halt in the back parking lot beside the other two RMPs. As the wheels finished there final rotation before coming to a complete stop, the stinging sound of gunfire permeated the surrounding air. 

Faith raised a hand to her mouth, unsure of who was shooting at what, but ultimately fearing the worst. As the fifth and final shot was fired, Faith spun on her heel to face Bosco, whose posture would suggest he was at the receiving end of every single one of those bullets. She shuddered at the sight of her partner. His face was white in complexion and his eyes were fixed, dark and cold. It appeared as though he had shut down, no longer feeling or functioning. 

Bosco could literally feel his heart stop as the sound of bullets reached his ears. His breath was quickly stolen, as if someone had repetitively punched him in the stomach, allowing no time for recovery between the violent blows. 

Once the gunfire had ceased, he found himself unable to breathe, every passing second causing the panic to mount until he felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. He could hear his name being spoken from a distance, but couldn't respond in any way. 

He could feel a hand on his shoulder, but the sensation was distant, like he was dreaming. He wanted to push it away. He wanted it all to go away. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. But most of all, he wanted to breathe. 

TBC. 


	10. Chapter 10 A

Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews. As promised, this chapter is really represented in two parts, I shaould have the second part up soon. 

Thanks for reading and enjoy this chapter! 

~Joey~****

****

**-A Fine Balance-**

****

**Chapter 10 A**

The air was completely still, no one willing to make any sudden movements in fear of setting off another round of random gunfire. Sully and Davis held their positions, the rise and fall of their chests counting out the torturous seconds of agonizing indecision. 

"Davis," Sully glanced apprehensively at his partner's bloodied arm, which had, to this point, been taking the least precedent in his list of concerns. "How bad are you hit? You okay?" 

Davis looked at him with somewhat of a lost _expression for a few seconds before registering on what, exactly, Sully was referring to. As if reminded of a nuisance, he shrugged off the concerned questioning, "Yeah, it's nothing, I'm fine." 

"It doesn't look like nothing," Sully replied, not raising his voice but communicating a deeper concern despite his recent neglect towards the issue at hand. "You sure?" 

Ty felt slightly annoyed by Sully's motherly prying and shot him a look of disgust. "Sul, would I be standing here right now if that bullet did anything more than just grazed me?" he spat in irritation. 

Sully raised his eyebrows in an implied 'excuse me' _expression, which Davis promptly ignored and focused his attention on manipulating the gun in his hands, trying to block out the slow, building ache that cramped his left arm. 

"Sullivan, can you see anything from your angle?" the third cop asked, his composure much more evident than his rookie partner's. 

Sully craned his neck around the perimeter of the door, carefully not allowing himself to expose too much of a target. "Nah," he answered, shaking his head with a hint of frustration, "I can't get a clear view to the front. Maybe we can work towards the side and see if there are any windows to get a glimpse through." 

Davis nodded and immediately proceeded to inch his way towards the corner of the building, not once letting his hands loosen on the cold steal of his loaded weapon, his index finger pressing hazardously on the trigger. 

The bitter cold was biting at his face and chest, not making his quest to take deep, steady breaths any easier. He quickly cast a glance over his shoulder, assuring himself that the other three -or at least two- capable officers still supported his decision to round the corner. 

Despite his best efforts to remain a silent stalker of his prey, every carefully thought-out step broke the silence with the crunch of hard, frost covered snow separating beneath his feet. Davis cringed at the unavoidable noise, making an effort to creep forward on the balls of his feet to reduce the noisy giveaway. 

He pressed his body against the sharply frigid steal and then quickly moved around the corner, eyes constantly surveying the land for any sign of a threat. Once he was almost certain he had been unspotted, his efforts were rewarded by the sight of a large, square window only feet away from his current position. 

"Sul," he whispered into his radio without removing his stare from the glass pane, "There's a window about halfway down the side of the building. I'm gonna see if I can get some sort of view of" 

Davis' quiet transmission was rudely interrupted by another rapid round of untamed bullets. He instinctively dove to the ground in the direction of the other officers, who were safely positioned around the corner, an obvious blind spot to their assassin. 

"Davis!" he heard his name screamed by his frightened partner. 

Davis was suddenly blinded by the backlash of snow that had been propelled through the air by bullets that were colliding with the ground mere inches from his face. Fear consumed his mind, playing with his better sense and adding to his feeling of hopelessness, leaving him incapacitated in the ferocity of the moment. 

A firm, strong grasp latched onto his forearm and roughly yanked his body forward across the rough, frozen ground. 

"Jesus Christ! Where the hell did he come from?!" Sully screamed, no longer concerned about keeping a quiet, undetected profile. 

Davis gasped, unable to formulate a response for his partner's distraught question. The burning sting on his face and in his eyes was completely overridden by the relief coursing through his trembling body. 

Sully shook his head, lowering his chin into his chest while letting out a breath that he was unaware he had been holding, "We're in way over our heads." 

****************** 

Faith reached out and absentmindedly placed a hand on Bosco's shoulder, but remained focused on the scene in front of them, her concern for her partner only taking a backseat to her inquisitiveness as to what deadly actions had transpired over the last few minutes. 

She couldn't see any officers other than those who had just arrived, and she dreaded that those on the scene already, might have been the intended targets of the recently fired bullets. The setting appeared to be frozen; no one was making any move to pursue their objectives any further. The silence was accentuated by quiet, but clearly deciphered, gasps coming from her partner. 

"Bos?" she gently whispered, his obvious suffering and loss of control stealing her attention from the whirlwind of thought racing through her uneasy mind. 

He didn't respond. His eyes, unfocused and glassy, were clouded with fear and uncertainty. His defenseless posture conveying his terror for his sudden loss of words and poise. 

Bosco felt his good knee go weak and he gripped onto the hood of the car before his leg completely gave way under the weight of his body. Immediately, there were hands around his waist, assisting in supporting his trembling form. He heard himself gasp, but the small, forced intact of oxygen only seemed to fuel the continual burn in his lungs, resulting in another wave of sharp pains to shoot through his battered ribs and back. 

Without any notion of how the events actually took place, Bosco came to the realization he was sitting on the hard, frozen ground, his eyes coming into focus on his outstretched legs which were precariously resting on a pile of freshly fallen snow. 

He reflexively gasped again, the pain increasing to such a level of intensity that he could feel nausea building in the pit of his stomach. Wrapping his arms tightly around his aching body, he moaned slightly and tried again to take another breath, despite the obvious increase in discomfort it would stimulate. 

Faith's voice broke through Bosco's haze of perplexity and direct confusion, causing him to jolt back into the dreaded world in which he had gratefully escaped for even just a few gratifying moments. He struggled once more to inhale deeply and satisfy the craving burn in his oxygen-depleted lungs. 

Faith was glaring it him with a mix of concern and curiosity, her eyes staring determinately at her struggling partner. 

Bosco swallowed, trying desperately to shake off the overwhelming sheet of panic that threatened to snap his last shred of sanity that he was relying on and clinging to for dear life. 

"Iuh." 

A fleeting look of relief brushed across Faith's features, "Are you okay? You just sort of collapsed?" 

"Yeah," Bosco whispered, trying to avoid eye contact at all costs while bracing his arm against the ground to use as a support while he struggled back to his feet. 

Faith grabbed her partner's elbow to substitute as the foundation for most of his weight while he attempted to arrange his feet underneath him. 

Before Faith could begin questioning Bosco on his sudden crumble, another series of spitting gunshots imposed its presence on her thoughts. 

Bosco shook off Faith's grip on his arm and resumed his position against the hood of the truck. He squinted his eyes against the blinding sun reflecting off the sleek veil of snow covering every inch of the surrounding ground. When no movement could be detected, Bosco glanced over his shoulder slowly, careful not to aggravate his tension-cramped muscles. 

He jumped at the sudden, sharp sounds of bullets that once again were being fired at the unknown, his heart sinking further into the depths of despair, his hands automatically clenching at fear and anger, knowing that the chances of his mother being returned alive were slimming with every new bullet that was released from its chamber. 

Silence resumed once again, but was short-lived, broken by the sound of rolling tires coming up from behind them. Bosco snapped his head to the left again to see three unmarked vehicles come to a stop only a few feet behind Faith's truck. 

TBC I'm almost done part B and it should be up shortly enough. Thanks for reviewing ;) 


	11. Chapter 10 B

Sorry that I took longer than expected with this little part. I had to think about exactly where I wanted to take it and thought that you guys might appreciate quality over quantity ;) You'll have to let me know if you consider this 'quality'!  
  
Thanks so much, Sarah! You are my savior, girl, and you know it!! I can't do any of this (and wouldn't want to try) without you.   
  
Thanks so much to everyone that has graced me with your wonderfully inspiring reviews. I love you guys for it and I can't tell you what a difference it makes to a writer to receive such wonderful feedback.  
  
Anyway, I won't babble on any longer, here's part B!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
-A Fine Balance-  
  
Chapter 10 B  
  
Three groups of four men simultaneously exited their respective vehicles; eight of them dressed in typical ESU gear while the other four presented themselves in meticulous suits. They slowly approached the vehicle where the two shell-shocked officers were stationed.   
  
No words were spoken as the eight uniformed, heavily-armed men, stalked towards the building in question with skilled stealth, not once letting their focus deviate and therefore paying no attention to Bosco and Faith.  
  
"Officer Yokas," the tallest of the suited man greeted Faith while removing his sunglasses with a gloved hand while extending the other one forward.  
  
"Sergeant Fitzgerald!" she exclaimed while returning the handshake, surprised to see her supervising officer from her rookie year.   
  
"You involved in this hostage situation?" he asked, his eyes drifting back and forth from her to Bosco.  
  
"Um, yes. Sergeant, this is my partner, Officer Boscorelli."  
  
The Sergeant smiled and nodded his greeting to Bosco, whose eyes only raised from the ground for a brief second to recognize his presence.   
  
"His mother is the hostage, sir," Faith quickly inserted, warning the experienced cop that they would have to address the situation sensitively around her partner.  
  
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry to hear that, Officer Boscorelli," he replied, his voice suddenly dripping with sympathy, "but I have an outstanding team that will do everything within their power to make sure you mother comes out of this as unscathed as possible."  
  
Bosco nodded, smirking slightly, remembering the sensitivity classes he had to take and realizing that this guy had just pretty much given him a textbook statement of assurance. He grimaced at the words 'as unscathed as possible', noting that there was a distinct possibility that his mother could be quite 'scathed', as the guy had put it, but the longer they waited, the smaller the 'possibility' of such a positive outcome.   
  
Bosco slowly turned around, squinting into the bright light to watch the members of Sergeant Fitzgerald's team crouching up to their positions, stalking towards the building like panthers ready to pounce on their prey.   
  
Another one of the suited men tapped Sergeant Fitzgerald on the shoulder. "We gotta get up there," he stated, motioning to the scene.  
  
The Sergeant nodded before returning his attention back to Faith, "We're going to go get stationed up closer, you guys stay right here."  
  
"No!" a firm voice came from the frail figure that was staring intently ahead.  
  
The Sergeant jumped slightly at the surprise response from the obviously disturbed officer who had his back turned to him.  
  
"I want to come with you."  
  
"Bosco…" Faith started.  
  
"No, Faith, stop." He turned to face Faith, his eyes clearer than they had been, but his voice slightly unsteady, "I want to be there. I need to be there."  
  
Faith sighed, affected by the pleading look in her partner's eyes, his despair evident in his features.  
  
"Well, if you're coming, you're coming now. We gotta move," stated the Sergeant in a business-like fashion, no longer trying to comfort Bosco with his tone of voice.   
  
"Fine, let's go," Bosco replied, slightly relieved that the officer hadn't argued him on the matter.   
  
He quickly stumbled to the side of the truck to retrieve his crutches, and then with every last ounce of strength he could muster, tried to block out the radiating pain as he tried to keep up with the suits ahead of him.   
  
Faith jogged up behind, ready to catch him if his body was to fail him. She could see his arms shaking with every forced step, and briefly wondered if he was indeed going to make it to his destination.   
  
Finally, the suits came to a stop when they approached a large, unmarked van. Sergeant Fitzgerald talked briefly with one of the men who had a headpiece on, and then spoke quietly with his other companions, gesturing to various buildings and landmarks around them as he spoke.  
  
Bosco let out a shaky sigh, letting his arm and stomach muscles relax from their previously contracted state. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead from the exertion and a sudden surge of nausea spread through his entire body in vicious waves.   
  
He swallowed and then lifted his gaze to the building in front of him. He could see Sully and Davis - as well as another officer that he wasn't too familiar with - pressed against the back of the bar, their bodies appearing to be frozen in a 'ready' state, rigid and stiff in the freezing weather.  
  
***********************  
  
"Oh, thank GOD!" Sully whispered loudly when he caught sight of the helmeted, long-gunned officers.  
  
Davis felt his heart leap when he followed Sully eyes. He could see men dressed in black, starkly contrasting the blinding whiteness of the snow, making their way into and behind several different structures and barriers that surrounded them.   
  
"Sul," Davis whispered while watching one of the armed men slip behind a dumpster across the narrow street.  
  
"Yeah," Sully answered, similarly not letting his gaze drift from the subtle activity taking place around them.  
  
"You think she's alive? I mean, it's been like a week. Who holds someone hostage without even contacting anyone for a week?"  
  
Sully didn't really answer, but rather let out a long, tension-gorged sigh that was accentuated by a swirling cloud of white that streamed from his mouth out into the sub-zero air.  
  
"Yeah," Davis whispered somewhat to himself, "that's what I thought."  
  
*******************  
  
"Sergeant, we can't get a clear view of anything in the building from our locations. Requesting permission to approach the scene."  
  
Bosco's eyes widened. "No!" he half-yelled, half-pleaded, "You can't DO that! This is my MOTHER! You send your guys into that apartment! Chances are that lunatic will shoot anything in sight, which means he's going to shoot HER!"  
  
Sergeant Fitzgerald clenched his jaw, angry with himself for allowing someone so emotionally involved to be a part of his operation.  
  
"Officer Boscorelli, I deal with these situations everyday. You are going to have to trust me, and my team for that matter, to do OUR JOBS. There are other officers involved in this too, and we can't risk their lives any further."  
  
Bosco shook his head, anger merging into his veins, and suddenly he wanted to punch the guy.   
  
"Bosco, you are going to have to let them do their jobs," Faith tried to intervene, recognizing the look of Bosco reaching his 'breaking point', and fearing that he would use his crutches in ways for which they were not intended.  
  
"I've DONE THIS, Faith! I know what's going to happen and I can't LET IT happen. Please," he turned his attention back to the Sergeant, whose impatience was becoming more and more evident with every passing second, "send someone up there to talk to this guy, ask him what he wants. Don't have people barging in there with guns and scare him into shooting everything, or EVERYONE, in sight!" Bosco's voice was starting to waver from sheer emotion; a desperate look occupying his face as he begged the Sergeant to spare his mother's life.  
  
"I'm not going to send one of my men up there to get killed while trying to 'talk' to this psychotic lunatic! Don't make me regret bringing you along, Boscorelli."   
  
"I'll do it."  
  
"Bosco, no…"  
  
"No, Faith, I HAVE to do this. This is my Ma, Faith." Bosco's eyes flooded with unshed tears as he explained his reasoning to his scared partner.  
  
"You?!" the Sergeant stated incredulously. "You can't do this, nor do you have the training to do this!"  
  
"Yes, I do!" Bosco quickly threw back at the mocking Officer. "I trained for ESU with Hobart. I went through all the compulsory training exercises. I am more than capable of doing this."  
  
"Even if that were true," Sergeant Fitzgerald shook his head while smiling slightly, "look at you! You can barely stand! What makes you think you can go up there and be at the top of your game… That is, if you even HAVE a game?!"  
  
"You will NOT regret letting me do this, sir," Bosco leaned in closer to his superior. "I swear to you I will NOT let you down. Please, Sergeant, this means too much to me to screw up."  
  
Bosco stared long and hard at the tall man, a determined look molding his features as he tried to ooze confidence despite the nervous wrenching of his stomach.  
  
"Fine," the Sergeant finally stated after a few pensive moments. "Go grab a vest and gun from the van. And, Boscorelli?" he asked, spinning to make eye contact with the significantly smaller, but impressively determined officer. "DON'T make me regret this."  
  
Bosco nodded, and ignoring all the pain that was begging him to stop, spun around to approach the rear of the van to retrieve the needed items.  
  
Faith stood motionless, shocked at what had just occurred in front of her. Finally her voice returned and she moved forward to approach her partner who was already struggling to pull the heavy Kevlar vest over his shoulders.  
  
"Are you OUT OF YOUR MIND?!" she shot at him, her eyes wide with disbelief as she fought the urge to slap Bosco across the face.  
  
"No, in fact, I've never been more 'in' it," he replied, avoiding eye contact as he checked the clip in the gun he had been assigned.  
  
"You can't even walk up a flight of stairs without taking a break! What if this guy attacks you? What are you going to do then, Bosco? What good are you to your mother if you can't even protect yourself?"  
  
"Faith, this is the only time I am going to ask you to do this for me - TRUST ME!"  
  
"You just collapsed to the ground not even five minutes ago and now you're going to…"  
  
"Please," Bosco interrupted her, his voice soft and pleading as he locked eyes with Faith, "Just trust me."  
  
Faith shook her head, her eyes watering with tears of frustration as she realized that no good could possibly come of this, and there was nothing she could do to talk Bosco out of doing what he had set his mind to.  
  
"Just be careful?" she half-asked, half-stated, once she had given in to the inevitable.  
  
Bosco nodded reassuringly to her before he abruptly shoved the gun into its holster beneath his jacket and gingerly made his way towards Sergeant Fitzgerald, who was talking to the other men in suits.  
  
"I'm ready."  
  
TBC. 


	12. Chapter 11

I'm so terribly sorry for the long wait that preceded this chapter. I found myself grasping for words, and I didn't want to settle for a something that was uninspired and 'meaningless'. I think that I've found my groove again, and I thank you for sticking with me through my writing difficulties ;)

Anyway, special thanks go out to Sarah, who not only fixes all of my careless mistakes, but she also is the reason this chapter even exists. It might have been a few more months of waiting had she not come through like she did! Thanks, SARAH!

That's it. I'm done rambling. Enjoy Chapter 11. 

Joey

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

****

A Fine Balance-

Chapter 11

Bosco fumbled nervously with the microscopic earpiece that he had been told to insert at the last minute. Every few seconds, a sharp, static noise would crackle over the tiny speaker, invading his sensitive ears and causing him to jump apprehensively. No one was talking to him, and he only hoped it would stay that way. He needed to do this entirely his way. After a final check of his discrete equipment, he took a deep breath in a last-ditch attempt to calm himself and swallow the lump that was forming in his throat. Proceeding forward toward the impending disaster that was the predicament he had thrown himself into, he prepared himself for the worse, but internally, clinging to every last strand of faith in a higher power, prayed for the best. 

Don't show up unannounced. Tell him you're coming and make it clear that you're unarmed.

The voice that emerged from the small speaker was significantly louder than Bosco had anticipated, and he cringed until the crackling demands diminished and were replaced once again by silence and the occasional static eruption. The headache that had only been threatening to emerge just minutes before was beginning to pound its way into a full-fledged migraine. He shut his eyes briefly, allowing the darkness to relieve the debilitating pain for a few brief seconds before continuing on his slow, torturous journey to the side of the building where the other officers were tensely residing. 

Glancing around nervously, Bosco cautiously edged his way closer to his destination - knowing all too well that depending on where the man has standing in the quaint apartment, he could very well be in clear sight, making him an all too easy target for the gunman.

Remember, take everything slowly. Don't push him; it will only make him feel threatened.

Bosco recoiled once again at the blaring intrusion as the deafening voice echoed through his ear canal, piercing through the silence and spurring forward the growing pain behind his eyes. 'Jesus, turn that shit down,' he mumbled to himself, gripping the one crutch he had taken along as a companion in a desperate attempt to compensate for the temporary lack of stability that proved overwhelming. Once he had regained the minimum amount of constancy required to proceed forward, he focused on taking those last few painful steps that separated him from the other three freezing officers.

"Bosco," Sully stated while shaking his head in a disapproving fashion that often frequented his greetings to the stubborn officer, "what the hell are you doing?"

Bosco glanced from Sully to Davis and then to the other senior officer that he wasn't all too familiar with, ignoring Sully's question for the time being while he tried to analyze the ins and outs of the building that detailed his vision. His eyes finally settled on the red substance oozing from Davis' upper-left arm. 

"Davis, you were hit?"

Ty shook his head. "No. I mean, yeah," he quickly corrected himself his eyes conveying a sense of irritation that Bosco couldn't quite justify, "but it's nothing - just a flesh wound. What are you doing over here, Bosco?" 

"I'm going to try to talk to this bastard. See what he wants."

"You?!" Sully stifled his laugh to a short, whispered chuckle, "This is just great…"

"This guy's upstairs," Bosco stated, squinting against the bright afternoon sun as he tried to get a distinct view of the upper level that was his final destination. "Do you know where?"

"He was by the staircase that leads down to the lower level when we were inside, but he was shooting at me from the side window," Davis guardedly motioned towards the corner that Sully had dragged him around when the madman had opened fire on him not too long ago.

Bosco eyes drifted over the freshly massacred ground, chunks of snow chewed up as a result of the onslaught of stray bullets that had assaulted the previously undefiled, virginal landscape. Subconsciously biting his lower lip, he mentally analyzed his underdeveloped plan of action. He knew the architecture of his battleground inside-out, which was a definite advantage, but along with that knowledge came the realization that once up those stairs, there was no other way out. The fire escape, having been more of a hazard than a safety feature, had been unlawfully dismantled more than a couple years ago. Bosco internally chastised himself for not taking more initiative to correct the wrong that could potentially assist in his, and his mother's, demise.

With one last drawn, strained exhalation, Bosco poised himself as best he could for the sensational foray that inevitably composed his future. Suppressing all of the extreme emotions that were inauspiciously gaining control over his reactions, he swallowed one last time, preparing himself for the dreaded, unimaginable horror that awaited his arrival. 

With a light, supportive pat on the back, Davis bid farewell to his fellow officer, his parting words encouraging the frail Bosco to stay safe and not attempt any super-human feats to jeopardize his well-being any further than he already had. Ty couldn't help but eye the shaky figure skeptically - the pain and fear clearly evident in his clouded, blue eyes. 

Bosco's fist clenched and released the handle on his singular crutch in a subtle display of anticipation. With one final manipulation of the sponge-like grip, he strode off as best he could, fighting his animalistic urge to flight. 

His muscles twitched in uneasiness as the old floorboards moaned in distress under his ill-distributed weight. The sporadic bursts of static and the creaking of the wooden slats were playing with his already frayed nerves, and he felt the need to take a few seconds to recompose, resting his forearm on the alcohol-soiled counter, allowing his heavy eyelids to slip shut, the darkness medicating the flagrant pounding in his head. 

A sharp crack snapped him back into focus, his eyes darting around the solemn bar, searching for the source of the noise. 

Again, a similar sound invaded his senses, and he found himself looking up at the ceiling, the creaking permeating through the floor above. Someone was walking directly above him, and from what he could gather, whoever it was, was heading in the opposite direction as him - away from the staircase. 

Bosco chose to view this as an opportunity, and tried to manufacture light, weightless steps as he covered the remaining ground that separated himself from the stairs. 

Boscorelli, don't you dare approach unannounced. 

He grinded his teeth in frustration at the loud, intrusive demand. Resisting the urge to whip the tiny, two-way earpiece against the wall, he reluctantly took the advise into consideration. The only thing worse than a crazy man, was a _surprised,_ crazy man.

Looking up the dimly lit stairway, Bosco squinted to get a better view against the screaming retort from the surging pain that radiated through his skull. Satisfied that his path was unobstructed, Bosco summoned all his strength to silently make his way up towards the darkness. 

The door that was the entrance to the apartment was ajar, providing a narrow window for Bosco to steal a glance into the space and try to assess his options that would help to formulate his next move.

Before his eyes had a chance to adjust to the significantly darker room, a whispered gasp caused his heart to pulse rapidly in his throat. Blinking several times, coercing his eyes to cooperate in the darkness, he heard it again.

"Maurice…" 

It was so quiet, so soft in its delivery that Bosco doubted his senses for a brief second before he could determine its legitimacy himself. There, not five feet away from him, his mother sat trembling; her dark eyes an exhibit of sheer terror and uncertainty, pleading with her son for the long sought after security that had fled her previously safe residence

Bosco tore his eyes away from his mother and nervously started scanning the room for any other sign of life.

"Ma," he whispered, his voice failing to conceal his dread and reassure his mother. "Where is he?" The last part was mouthed more than vocalized as Bosco felt his mouth drying up and his muscles tense - adrenaline compensating for the spasm-like pain that was telling him he was in over his head. 

Rose used her index finger to cautiously point towards the bedroom, her wrists chaffing against the rough twine that was fastening her to the chair in which she was seated. 

"It's okay, Ma. It's okay now…"

Bosco allowed himself to absorb the information. His mother was alive. She seemed generally unharmed. She was scared - horrified - but alive. His body shook in relief, but the comforting feeling was stolen away as quickly as it had come.

"WHAT'S GOING ON?" 

Jesus, Boscorelli, what the fuck are you doing?

The force and repugnance of the voice forced Bosco backwards, and he gripped the doorframe to prevent tumbling backwards from whence he came. 

The only sound that could be heard was the cocking of a gun, the metal confirmation that death was not an issue, but rather an option. Bosco steadied himself enough and looked up, the barrel of the gun was in congruence with his line of vision, pointed at his mother. 

Tears sprang from her eyes as the gun found it's familiar position, and it was apparent that this was not the first time the madman had turned his rage into threats that involved the weapon. 

"You come ONE step closer and I swear, I will blow her head off."

Bosco raised his arms immediately, letting the man know that he had no intentions of doing anything that would harm the hostage.

"I'm not…" he cleared his throat and tried again to verbalize his whirling thoughts, "I don't want anyone to get hurt. I just want to know what you need. What can I give you that will put this all behind us?"

"What can you give me?" the man laughed while swinging his gun around to exaggerate his mock enthusiasm. "How many times do I have to tell you people? GIVE ME MY SON!"

A sob distracted the two men in their heated negotiation as Rose lost grip on her emotions. 

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

The crazed demand only spurred the emotional release further, and the man's already thin patience was threatening to snap.

Bosco did his best to nod as his mother, who seemed to take a small token of comfort out of the gestured interaction, silencing her sobs for the time being.

His son, get him back on his son. Ask who he is, what his name is…

The static consumed the voice to Bosco's relief, and he streamlined his focus to solving this man's mystery.

"Who is your son, sir? I can't bring him to you if I don't know who he is or where to find him."

"You…" the man stated as an epiphany appeared to enlighten him, "You're her son. You're the cop!"

Bosco hadn't planned on divulging that information, but he wasn't going to deny it and risk setting off the lunatic and his weapon. 

He nodded, "Yes, so I can get your son, wherever he is. I can help you."

"YOU'RE the bastards that TOOK him from me! And now you want to HELP me?!" his voice continued to raise throughout his tirade, and Bosco could feel his entire body shutting down against the vicious stimuli. 

"I didn't take your son anywhere, sir," Bosco gripped the doorframe tighter as a wave of nausea distracted him for a brief second. Focusing, he continued his plea of innocence, "I don't know your son."

The man shook his head rapidly, tears starting to form in his own eyes, "NO! He was coming back to get me! He wouldn't leave me here. You bastards must have found him, arrested him… I WANT MY SON BACK!"

Bosco's brow creased in confusion. 'What the hell is this guy talking about?' he mentally questioned. 

Keep him talking, Boscorelli. We're getting ready to send you some back-up.

"NO!" Bosco half yelled, the man jumping a little in surprise. "Uh… No, I mean, I didn't arrest your son. 

I'm sure that he's out there, sir. We'll find him, but we need a name."

"He wouldn't leave me here…" the man appeared to be losing it and Bosco took the opportunity to advance one step closer towards his terrified mother. 

"You move one more inch and I swear, neither of you will live to see tomorrow." The command wasn't screamed, but rather stated quietly as the man ran a shaky hand through his hair. The calmness in his words scared Bosco beyond any other empty threat he had been at the receiving end of in the past, and a shiver ran up his spine because he knew this guy wasn't kidding. They're never kidding when they're that calm. He meant every word. He was willing to follow through. 

"I don't want anyone to get hurt," Bosco tried to match his voice to the level in which the man had previously spoken.

"What's your son's name?" he felt his good knee getting weak and he silently begged his body for a few more minutes of strength. 

"James. James Polarie."

The name struck Bosco. He had heard it before, and he wondered if he had, indeed, arrested this fellow like he had pleaded he hadn't.

We're looking into it.

For the first time, Bosco was relieved that he had the menacing little object in his ear. 

"Sir, I'm sure we'll find him and bring him to you so that no one else has to get hurt. Do you know where he could be? Where can we look for him?"

"I TOLD you! He was supposed to come back and get me… We had it all planned out. This wasn't supposed to happen," he shuddered while waving the gun in a circle around him. 

Bosco suddenly felt an overwhelming constriction on his chest. Dipping his chin towards his body, he fought for breath. The aching from his battered ribs consumed his desperate efforts to inhale. He heard himself gasp but couldn't quite lay calm to the noise; his body feeling like it had assumed a separate entity throughout the whole ordeal.

"Maurice?" his mother's scared whisper registered, and he fought to match his eyes with hers. Worry for her son clouding her judgment for a brief second as she attempted to free herself from the bonds that kept her from assisting him.

"DON'T MOVE! I TOLD YOU NOT TO MOVE!"

"Ma… don't. I'm okay… please…" he gasped, "Listen to him."

Boscorelli, we have info on James Polarie. He's with Child Services. He was involved in a car accident over a week ago. They say they can't contact his guardians.

Bosco could almost feel the pieces of the puzzle coming together. The flash of the truck barreling towards him… The kid, asking for his dad… It all made sense.

He stumbled forward as his leg gave out, causing him to crash unprotected onto the ground in front of his mother's feet. 

"MAURICE!" 

"DON'T MOVE!"

The voices all merged together and Bosco fought the urge to empty the few contents of his stomach, swallowing in vain as he tried to regain any form of strength that could help make this nightmare diminish.

He heard the crack of a chair falling over, his mother's paternal senses controlling her actions as she tried to help her struggling son.

"I SAID, DON'T MOVE!!!"

Everything molded together in a blurry package of rage and fear, the coldness of metal against his face; the familiar feeling of the round, quarter-sized tip of a loaded weapon pressed hard into his cheek. 

All Bosco could do was wait… This was his end, he was sure of it. He fought for his last words, a symbol of what he stood for and what he believed. With his last source of energy, he pushed out the words he needed to be heard.

"I love you, Ma…"

TBC.


	13. Chapter 12

Okay, this is it, the story has finally reached its end. I feel that I have to take this opportunity to thank a few people for their relentless support. Sarah, your comments and constructive criticism are so valued and I can't thank you enough for all the time and effort that you have poured into my work. You truly are my hero!

Faith, Bo, Jenna, Stella, Ang, Malinda, LuLu, Jan, Cactus, Rutgers, Max, Karlei, Amy, RBF, Ranger Web and everyone else who stuck with me from the beginning despite my numerous 'blocks', thanks so much for the continuing support, it meant more to me than you could ever imagine. I hope that I can end this one with a little less controversy than 'The Hours After'… but come on, that was fun! ;) 

Thanks again and enjoy the last chapter.

~Joey~

-A Fine Balance-

"I love you, Ma…"

Chapter 12

"Maurice," her voice was muted by the overwhelming emotions that gripped her heart and closed off her throat. Rose watched her worst nightmare unfold before her eyes as the crazed man pressed his gun hard into her son's cheek. She allowed her eyes to close and savored what she assumed would be the last few seconds of her son's short life. 

***********************

The seconds stretched into their own undefined eternity with no signs of time resuming its normal rhythm in the near, foreseeable future. Bosco's mind stuttered and spun against the constraints of his meltdown, fighting to find a way out of the horror that had consumed the hostile environment.

Sobs could be audibly determined through the ringing in his ears, only drowned out by the whispering breath of the man that had positioned himself within inches of Bosco's ear. Each inhalation sent pangs of fear and dread through his chest, the pain blending with the incapacitating torture that was feeling helpless in such a dire situation. 

***********************

BANG

Rose felt a sharp pain embed itself inside her chest, her body going limp against the ropes that fettered her previous struggles. She waited, unwilling to open her eyes and praying that she could perish before she had to face the horror of reality. An involuntary sob wracked through her chest, sending surging pains of sorrow throughout her entire body. 

Life was no longer worth living.

***********************

BANG

The noise brought along with it a paralyzing sense of doubt. Confusion and dread swirled through his mind as he waited to be taken from the room and lifted above his own form as he had often seen in movies. 

Curiosity eventually surpassed the fear and he released his clenched eyelids, allowing the dimly lit room to filter into his vision. 

Almost immediately after his realization that his life wasn't ripped away from him, he felt an enormous weight drop across his back. The pain and surprise joined forces to send his mind into another whirling dervish and distracted him, yet again, from the matter at hand.

We got him, Boscorelli. Stay put, don't move. I'm sending up help.

*****************

"James…" the whisper floated into Bosco's ears, interrupting his semi-conscious fight to stay awake despite the increasingly difficult task that was breathing.

"James…"

"Maurice…"

The two names were muttered simultaneously, both parents pleading for their children against the shackling emotional distress that constricted their ability to think constructively. 

Bosco tried to answer, but his lungs couldn't expand to comply with his brain's command, and he found himself sinking deeper into the depths of helplessness. The familiar spots that warned him his internal batteries were dying, reappeared and this time, he allowed himself to slip into the black hole of nothingness. 

He just couldn't fight the darkness anymore.

******************

"Ow, don't touch it, Sul…"

Sully couldn't help but chuckle at his partner's childlike whining. 

"It looks good, Officer Davis. I can't foresee any problems. Keep it iced and take the antibiotics and painkillers prescribed and you should be back in action in about a week." 

The doctor smiled at both the officers before turning on her heel to leave the room. "If you experience any difficulties, just come right back in and we'll fix you up," she added while strolling out the door, her mind already focused on her next patient.

Davis started to collect his belongings with his one free hand, the other bound tightly to his chest to avoid any aggravation to the grazing injury.

"Here," Sully muttered while assisting Davis, speeding up the process tenfold. 

Davis smiled slightly, sighing while his eyes drifted across the room and then settled on the floor beneath him.

"He's fine, Davis. Well," Sully corrected himself before proceeding, "he will be fine. You just worry about you."

Davis nodded while smiling appreciatively, "Yeah… Yeah, I know, Sul. Thanks."

******************

"Bosco."

"Com'on now, Bos, it's time to wake up."

"Maurice, please open your eyes, baby."

"Officer Boscorelli, can you hear me?"

Bosco listened carefully as one voice faded into the next; each plea was a little louder, could be heard a little clearer through the fog that had flooded his overwhelmed brain. 

Fighting through the cloud of dissociation, Bosco pried his weary eyes open.

The figures that inhabited his vision were multiplied by three, each person swaying in and out of focus until he had to close his eyes once again due to the nauseating dizziness. No one spoke and Bosco relished the silence, taking advantage of the opportunity to organize his thoughts and regain his composure.

Fighting to grasp his last memory of consciousness, Bosco found himself back in his mother's apartment, the weight on his back, the inability to breathe. He gasped, returning to the present, a comforting hand gently reassuring him with small circles on his forearm. 

His mother's face came into focus, her eyes glistening with tears of relief and happiness, her face starkly contrasted with a tired façade. 

"You scared me so much…" was all Rose could get out before her emotions took the reins of her poise. 

She closed her eyes and leaned forward until her forehead was resting on her son's shoulder, her tears immediately soaking through the thin garment of the hospital gown that cloaked him. 

Bosco remained stoic, allowing the sight of his mother, unharmed, uninhibited, and weeping at his side, to sink into his brain. A warm wave of relief swept across his body. 

He blinked twice, to assure that this was not another cruel twist on reality, manipulated and displayed by his tormented mind. Convinced that his mother was indeed at his side, he sighed, wincing slightly at the searing pain in his back and right side.

"You okay, Bos?"

Bosco jerked his head to his right. Faith smiled at him, her eyes displaying amusement towards his surprise at her presence, but her face conveying the same tired relief that was so evident in his mother. 

"You're stupid, you know that?"

Bosco managed a nod, agreeing with her fully. He knew he was in over his head, he knew he was going to fare worse by doing what he did, but he also knew he had to do it, and in that was something he took comfort in. Sometimes there are more important things than yourself. That was just the way he was, and he wouldn't have done it any differently if faced with the same situation again.

Faith smiled slightly as Rose's body shook while expelling her body of a week's worth of emotions. 

"The guy…" Bosco croaked, his throat raw and protesting his actions. He coughed lightly before trying again. 

Faith interrupted him before he could reattempt, and did her best to fill in her partner.

"ESU got him, Bos. Apparently, when you fell to the ground, he crouched down and placed the gun to your head, and that gave ESU a clear line on their target. Who knows what would have happened otherwise…" she stopped, noticing that Bosco's face was contorted, his pain obvious through his body language.

"Let me get a nurse," she stated quietly, but was promptly stopped by a firm hand on her wrist. 

"Just tell me."

Faith sighed, weighing her options in her head before giving into Bosco's request.

"He died in the bus on the way to the hospital."

Bosco shut his eyes in defeat. That outcome was not his goal. He didn't want it to end this way. He didn't want to take a kid's parent away from him. 

"What about the kid?" he whispered.

"Well, that's a little more complicated. Apparently, the kid's name isn't James Polaris."

Bosco looked confused but allowed her to continue.

"His name is Jim Polaris-Jefferson. His father kidnapped him from his mother's home in Chicago about ten years ago, when Jim was six. They've been searching for this kid for almost a decade. The father was institutionalized with schizophrenia, and not long after he was released, he started drinking heavily and as a result, was handed a restraining order by his ex-wife. I guess he took exception to that and only months later, he took Jim from his room in his mother's house in the middle of the night. They've been searching for both of them ever since. His mother arrived in New York about an hour ago… I haven't heard anything else yet."

Faith found herself in an unusual predicament - she couldn't read her partner's face. A stone-like exterior comprised of his expression and it disturbed her somewhat.

"I'm going to go get the nurse and see what they can do for the pain you're in."

With one last glance at Rose's unbridled display of emotion, Faith strode out of the room in pursuit of medical assistance for her partner.

"I'm sorry, Ma…"

Rose halted her sobbing proceedings for a second, absently brushing at the stray tears that had stained her cheeks.

"No, Maurice, you saved me. No…"

"I should have been there sooner… I should have known sooner."

"Shhhh…" Rose shushed her son into silence as she gently ran her fingers across his warm forehead, brushing his hair off his damp skin. "You have nothing to be sorry about, you hear me?"

Leaning forward, she placed a single kiss on his forehead, gently soothing away any stray feelings of guilt that may be consuming her overprotective son. 

"I love you so much, Maurice. Don't you ever scare me like that again."

Bosco could think of a million reasons that that was the most hypocritical comment he had ever heard, but he decided to let his mother say what she needed to say. 

He moaned as another wave of pain ripped through his side and shot down his badly injured leg. As if on cue, a doctor walked in, tailed by Faith, to administer some relief.

The pain medication went right to work, and immediately Bosco found himself blanketed by the warmth of the productive drugs. 

Both his hands were being gently held as Faith and his mother loaned him their support and encouragement in his time of need. 

"You reunited a mother and her son, Maurice."

Half asleep, Bosco mumbled back, "No, Ma, you did."

Both Faith and Rose simultaneously locked eyes over Bosco's drowsy form, grinning at his immediate displacement of honor. 

Faith shook her head and whispered, "Some things will never change."

-The End-

Thank-you so much for reading :D


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